Human Relationships: Mating Rituals
by jncar
Summary: Spock discovers that navigating a relationship with a Human woman is more complicated than he expected. Particularly since the Human woman in question is still a cadet, and Spock has a Vulcan fiancée waiting in the wings. Spock/Uhura, Spock/T'Pring
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This story is a sequel to "Human Relationships: Friendship", but stands well on its own, so there is no need to read that one first (though I won't complain if you do!). Thanks as ever to my beta reader, MrsTater. For those who don't already know, T'Pring is a character in TOS canon. She and Spock were betrothed when they were 7 years old.

Human Relationships: Mating Rituals

Chapter One

_When Spock was six, he was puzzled by the concept of desire. One morning as he sat in the garden with his father, he initiated a discussion on the topic._

_"Many of my schoolmates speak of their desires, but I do not understand the logic of desire. Is it appropriate to indulge in our desires, and to pursue them?" he asked._

_Sarek looked out at the garden, filled with rugged cacti, thick-leaved shrubs and a few delicate desert flowers imported from Earth. He hesitated a moment before answering. "Desire is a complex and multi-faceted concept. But it is not inappropriate to have desires or to pursue them. In fact, it is logically necessary for the perpetuation of civilization."_

_"I do not understand." Spock sat quietly on the garden bench, feeling the warmth of the morning sun. _

_"Desire to improve oneself. Desire to produce scientific, technological or artistic achievements for the betterment of society. Desire to reproduce. All of these desires have been and continue to be necessary for the establishment and continuation of civilized society. As such, we must pay attention to and act on those desires, and other related desires, to the best of our abilities."_

_Sarek looked down at Spock with the expression that indicated he was awaiting a vocal response._

_"Yes, father," said Spock. "However, not all desires are beneficial or acceptable, are they?"_

_"That is a valuable insight, my son." Sarek nodded. "Some desires are not born of logic or duty, but of emotion. Greed. Envy. Covetousness. Ruthless ambition. Vengefulness. Lust. These are illogical, emotional desires that can bring about great distress and destruction if they are indulged."_

_Spock turned away from his father and looked down at his folded hands. "How can I determine whether my desires are logical or emotional?"_

_"It is a skill that requires practice, like any other. When you perceive the development of a desire within yourself, you must take the time to carefully analyze that desire. Determine its practical and personal merits, and weigh it based not only on your own needs and your own potential benefits, but on the needs of and potential benefits for everyone around you. I am confident that if you employ such an analysis with each of your desires, you will come to the appropriate conclusion. Over time you will become sufficiently experienced that a complete analysis will no longer be necessary. It will eventually be immediately apparent to you whether or not your desires are logical."_

_Spock nodded. "I understand, Father. I am grateful for your assistance."_

_Already Spock could see that many of his desires were illogical--like his desire for sweet treats, or his desire for his mother to kiss him before he went to bed at night. He could see the potential nutritional detriment of his first desire; however, he could not comprehend any potential harm from continuing to pursue his second desire. Yet, he also could not imagine that his father was wrong, so Spock concluded that he was merely insufficiently experienced to recognize the negative consequences of his emotional desire._

_Later that night, as bedtime approached, Spock found that his determination to forsake his emotional desire was already wavering. It had become apparent to him that he would sorely miss his goodnight kiss._

_When Amanda leaned over him to place her lips on his forehead, he chose not to draw back from her touch. Perhaps he would undertake his resolution to overcome emotional desires tomorrow._

***

It has been four weeks since Spock last visited his favorite Indian restaurant. When he arrives at the beginning of the lunch hour, he is quickly ushered to his customary table. A few moments later his usual waiter, Manoj, arrives.

"So good to see you again, Mr. Spock! We were beginning to think you'd abandoned us for the black of space." Manoj grins as he places a menu in front of Spock, and another at the seat across from him.

"No. I have merely been busy." Spock's eyes dart to the menu in front of the empty chair. Its presence there makes him strangely uncomfortable.

"Well, we are glad that you've found the time to return. Do you need a few minutes to decide what you will have?" asks Manoj.

Spock shakes his head and places an order for a dish he has had several times.

"And will you be ordering for Miss Uhura, as well, or should I wait until she arrives?"

Spock looks at the lonely menu again, finally realizing why it bothers him. This is the first time that he has come to this restaurant in nearly a year without Uhura to dine with him.

"I am dining alone, today." He raises his gaze to meet Manoj's eyes. "Cadet Uhura is away for the summer."

Manoj nods apologetically and picks up the extra menu. "I am sorry to hear it. What is she doing this summer?"

"She is completing an internship with Starfleet Intelligence in Moscow."

"Oooh, that is a long way away. Well, I hope you won't be too lonely without her." With another smile, Manoj walks away.

Spock stares again at the empty seat across from him. Loneliness is an illogical emotion. Any being with an active intellect is perfectly capable of occupying himself--a fact that Spock knows well from his rather solitary childhood.

He eats his meal in silence, mentally reviewing the programming changes that he and his team need to implement in the Astral Navigation Lab's interactive displays.

The sound of light, feminine laughter from a nearby table catches his attention, and his eyes briefly take in the tableau of a young woman smiling at her male companion. His eyes dart back to the empty seat at his own table.

He has received two brief electronic messages from Uhura since she departed almost a month ago and has sent two brief replies. Yet he is unsatisfied.

He takes the last bite of his meal--which he has consumed approximately ten minutes faster than he ever would have in Uhura's company. He pays his bill and walks back to his office.

As he works at his computer terminal, his eyes keep drifting back to the small table in the corner that Uhura claimed as her work station when she became his teaching assistant last August. The computer terminal at the table is deactivated, and the table's surface is otherwise bare. Her chair is pushed in neatly, but he can still see the green tassels hanging from the corners of the decorative pillow that she left there. That pillow marks the chair as hers and hers alone. It is the sign that she will return.

Over the past few weeks he has grown increasingly restless whenever he works in his office. Today, as he stares at the green tassels, he finally realizes why. He has grown accustomed to the sound of someone else working with him. The taps of computer controls, the regular whisper of her breathing, the way she would sometimes hum softly to herself. He is so used to working in an atmosphere filled with those sounds that working in silence has become uncomfortable.

In order to help compensate, he attempts something that he has never tried before--he plays music while he works. He chooses an audio recording of some classic Earth music. Jazz, to be exact.

Once the music is playing at a pleasing, low volume, he is able to resume his work with greater focus. He is satisfied that his experiment has worked.

***

Spock initiates sub-space communication with T'Pring promptly at 0600 hours Sunday morning, just as he has every week since January. Over the winter holiday Uhura suggested that he get to know his betrothed before marrying her, and as her reasoning for such action was logical, Spock took her advice.

Yet, after six months of weekly communication, Spock believes that he still knows very little about T'Pring.

This morning she relates a detailed account of her activities over the previous week at the botanical research facility where she works. By now Spock feels he is nearly an expert in her branch of research merely from having listened to her. But he is far from an expert in the woman behind the research.

"What did you do in your free time this past week?" he asks abruptly when she pauses during a monologue on the genetic splicing technique that she is developing.

"My free time?"

"Yes. I am attempting to ascertain your interests beyond your occupation."

She stares at him with tight lips and a stony face for several moments. "I spent some time listening to music."

Spock remembers that she used to play the Karath flute, and asks if she still does.

"No. My research occupies so much time that I no longer have room in my schedule for adequate practice."

"Do you ever miss playing?"

Her brows knit in what he assumes is irritation. "If I still felt a desire to play, I would play. To act otherwise would be illogical."

"Of course," he says. They look at each other in silence for a moment before he thinks of a way to prolong the discussion. "I listened to music this week as well. Have you ever listened to the Earth music known as jazz?"

She shakes her head. "I have sampled very little Earth music."

"I will send you some recordings. Jazz employs structures and techniques radically different from any Vulcan music. You may find it fascinating."

"I will listen to your jazz." Her face remains impassive, almost to the point of utter apathy.

Spock wonders, not for the first time, why she indulges his desire for weekly communication. She seems no more interested in getting to know him now than she did when she was a girl.

After their customary thirty minutes of conversation, they end the communication.

Spock stands from his desk and walks to the shelf where he keeps his Vulcan lute. He always enjoyed playing as a boy, but has not touched the instrument in more than a year. It seems overly sentimental to keep an instrument that he no longer plays.

He runs his fingers along the strings for a moment, contemplating his alternatives. Finally, he picks up the lute, walks to his stool, and sits to play.

It is agreeable to be making music again.

***

Uhura's third letter is even shorter than her first two. After reading it, Spock is…annoyed.

He does not understand why her letter would provoke such a reaction. It is unpleasant when he does not understand himself, so he takes several minutes to analyze his reaction.

For most of a year he has spent part of nearly every day in Uhura's company. After the first several months their relationship progressed from a professional association to a meaningful friendship. By the spring their friendship had progressed to the point where there was very little about her daily activities, interests, and thoughts that he did not know, and there was very little about his life that she did not know. They shared personal and professional information freely and frequently.

Yet, in the five weeks that they have been apart, they have communicated virtually nothing about their current lives.

Spock now sees why her letter annoyed him. He feels excluded. He desires to maintain the same level of communication that they shared when they were working together.

He recognizes that such a desire is a purely emotional impulse and serves no logical purpose. In fact, the persistence of this illogical desire has repeatedly distracted him from his work. He is perfectly capable of waiting until the fall semester begins to resume his close personal relationship with Uhura.

In the meantime, he decides to spend his evenings meditating in order to rid himself of his illogical impulses.

He meditates late into the night, and goes to bed with a much more peaceful state of mind.

At 0400 hours he wakes. After exercising for one hour, showering, dressing, and eating breakfast, he impulsively sits down at his communications console.

In seconds he establishes a connection with Uhura's apartment in Moscow.

Her image appears on the screen, and he is pleased that her roommates did not answer in her stead.

"Spock!" She smiles. "This is a surprise."

"Hello, Nyota." Their use of one another's given names is a relatively recent development, and he still enjoys the feel of her name on his tongue. "I am pleased to find you at home."

"Yeah, I got back from work less than an hour ago. I'm going out to dinner with some friends soon. You're lucky you caught me." She is wearing the silver earrings--each a series of interlocking geometric links--which he gave her for her birthday. The sight pleases him.

"So," she continues, "was there any particular reason you called today?"

He hesitates for a moment, and then answers with complete honesty. "No. I simply wanted to--as you Humans put it--_chat_."

She laughs, and a tangible sensation of relief passes over him. It has been far too long since he heard that sound.

"Well," she says, grinning, "I don't have to leave for another half an hour. In the meantime, I would love to chat."

So they do.

Spock calls her at the same hour of the day two or three times a week for the remainder of the summer. He no longer has any difficulty concentrating on his work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **As ever, much thanks to my beta reader, MrsTater. Thanks for all your reviews and support--I really appreciate it.

Chapter Two

_Not long after Spock's bonding to T'Pring he became curious about the differences between Vulcan and Human mating rituals. From what he knew of his parents' history, their union must certainly have developed out of the latter rather than the former. He wished for more information on the matter, but not wanting to trouble his father with such a trivial inquiry, he asked his mother instead._

_"How did we mate?" She blinked at him in surprise from across the counter where they were folding the laundry together. "Are you asking how your father and I met and decided to marry?"_

_"Affirmative. I would like to better understand the difference between Human and Vulcan mating rituals." He smoothed the legs of a pair of trousers into a crisp crease before folding them in perfect thirds._

_"Well… That subject can be complicated." Amanda began loosely folding a sweater into a disorderly arrangement as she thought. The corners of Spock's mouth turned down. Amanda rolled her eyes at him and then shook the sweater back out to start over again._

_"Let me start with the story of how I met your father." She smoothed each sleeve of the sweater in a careful diagonal across its back. "I was teaching Vulcan language and culture at a high school in San Francisco. You probably remember that I was a teacher."_

_Spock remembered perfectly well--it was illogical of her to presume that he would not._

_"Anyway, I went out of my way to attend any and all Vulcan cultural and artistic events that I could. And in the process I got to be friends with a young Vulcan woman who worked as one of the household secretaries for the Vulcan Ambassador, who was, of course, your father."_

_Spock wondered if he should have asked his mother to write down her memories. She always expressed herself with greater clarity in text than in speech._

_"So," she continued, moving on to another sweater, "I asked this friend of mine to help arrange a field trip for some of my top students. She and one of the Embassy chefs were going to host an authentic Vulcan meal along with a few lectures on Vulcan daily life. Well, when Sarek found out what was happening he sent me a message demanding to review my curriculum and credentials before he would allow the event to proceed." _

_She laughed to herself, though Spock failed to see the humor in her anecdote._

_"So I messaged him right back, saying that his employees were free to do whatever they wanted in their free time, and that he should be proud of them for providing a valuable educational opportunity for local Human students, and that if he wanted my credentials and curriculum he would have to ask my boss."_

_Again she laughed, and shook her head. "And he did. The principal called me minutes later, looking positively terrified, and suggested that I either give up on my field trip or send the Ambassador what he wanted. So I sent him what he wanted. And my curriculum must have impressed him because he turned the field trip into an official embassy event and gave the keynote lecture himself. The whole thing went so well that he started hosting one field trip for my students every semester."_

_Though she continued to fold the laundry, Amanda's eyes no longer seemed focused on the task at hand, and her voice grew softer. Spock believed the behaviors to be signs of emotional reactions to her reminiscence. _

_"After the third of those field trips your father and I started to run into each other at some of those cultural and artistic events that I told you about, and we became friends. We started arranging to spend time together socially."_

_Her hands ceased moving altogether as her thoughts appeared to turn entirely inward. "After five years like that, I was offered a job by an old friend in Washington State. She wanted me to coordinate the Vulcan language and culture curriculum and instruction for the entire state. The opportunity seemed too good to pass up. I was ready to accept the job when I told Sarek about it."_

_Her smile broadened. "He found the idea of losing my regular company to be extremely disagreeable. So he offered me an alternative--he proposed marriage. And, after thinking about it for a few weeks, I accepted."_

_She looked up to catch Spock's eye. "He didn't like that I kept him waiting that long. But it was a _very _big decision."_

_"Indeed." Spock finished folding the last pair of trousers. "So, am I to gather from your story that Human mating rituals are composed primarily of regular social interaction with friends that result in a determination of mutual compatibility followed by a proposal of marriage?"_

_Amanda went back to folding another sweater. "Hmmm. More or less."_

_Spock found her answer highly unsatisfactory._

***

After two weeks, the fall semester is progressing well. There are several very promising students in Spock's latest phonology class, though his interspecies ethics students are somewhat disappointing. There are moments when Spock doubts the qualifications of the Admissions personnel.

The most satisfying part of the new semester, however, is Nyota's return. Every weekday beginning at 0800 hours she spends an hour working with him, then returns in the afternoon for two to four hours, depending on her daily class schedule. He finds that when he is able to discuss his projects and ideas with her as they work his productivity increases by more than four percent--an unlikely, but welcome, outcome.

This year she has been wearing her hair pulled up into a high, tight ponytail. When she is engrossed in her work he often turns his gaze to her work station, where she sits with her back and a small portion of her profile facing him. He studies the slenderness of her neck, and the soft curve of her ears. His mother often covered her neck and head with scarves, and Spock never felt the desire to examine the features of any of his other Human friends at length, so this is the first time he has seriously analyzed the minute physiological differences between Human and Vulcan heads. The differences are subtle, yet profound. He never tires of studying Nyota's features.

On the eleventh school day of the new semester Nyota seems tired and slightly distracted when she arrives for her morning work session. Twenty minutes after the hour a distinct rumbling sound--which Spock recognizes as a physiological indication of hunger--emerges from her abdomen.

He glances at her. "Nyota, was your morning nourishment insufficient today?"

She sighs and forces a smile. "I haven't had anything to eat yet."

He raises an eyebrow. "It is improper for you to skip meals. Such actions lead to fatigue and decrease your mental acuity."

"I know." She rolls her eyes in an expression that she once explained is indicative of good-natured exasperation. "I'm still trying to figure out how to fit everything into my new schedule this semester, that's all. For the first two weeks I couldn't find a good time to exercise, so I finally decided I'd have to do it first thing in the morning. But by the time I was done working out today I had barely enough time to shower and get dressed before coming here. Don't worry--I'll grab coffee and a pastry at the coffee stand outside before going to my first class."

"Hmmm." His lips tighten, and he turns back to his console.

"Let me guess," she says. "You don't approve of my coffee stand breakfast?"

"Such a meal lacks essential nutrients." He does not meet her eyes, instead focusing on the code he is programming for a new intra-Academy communications database. "A truly nourishing breakfast would include a source of protein, and contain significantly less sugar than the pastries you typically consume."

"Well, this is what works for me."

Now he does turn to look at her again. She is facing her console, marking quizzes from his most recent phonology class.

"Do you intend to make this schedule, and this inadequate breakfast, habitual?"

"Yes. I do." Though most of her features are neutral, he can see the faintest upward curve at the edge of her lips.

"Hmmm." He swivels back to his work, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind.

The next morning, Spock waits with greater eagerness than he should for Nyota's arrival.

She enters with her customary greeting, and strides to her work station. Instead of sitting, she lets her bag slide from her shoulder to the desktop and stares down at what sits on the desk in front of her chair. It is a large coffee, a whole grain bagel, and a container of protein-enriched yogurt.

A bright smile spreads across her face as she turns to look at him. The corners of his mouth twitch upward.

"I was uncertain of which additions you prefer in your coffee or of which spreads you prefer on your bagel, so I provided an assortment," he said.

"I see that." She continues to smile as she pulls out her chair, arranges her green pillow, and sits. She adds two packets of creamer and one tablet of sweetener to her coffee, and spreads butter and blueberry jam on her bagel. Spock makes a mental note of her choices for future reference.

"Thank you for this," she says as she finishes spreading the jam on her bagel. "It was very sweet of you."

"Sweet?" Only his mother has ever called him sweet. "I do not see how the term applies. As your superior officer, it is my duty to see to it that you remain healthy enough to perform your duties to the best of your abilities."

She narrows her eyes and takes a sip of her coffee. "Whatever you say, Commander."

"I trust the breakfast will not interfere with your ability to complete this morning's marking?"

She takes a bite of the bagel and shakes her head. After she swallows, she says, "I'm sure I'll finish just fine."

"Excellent."

Near the end of the hour, all that remains of her breakfast is a few crumbs of her bagel. She brushes them into her now-empty coffee cup and carries her trash over to the recycling chute.

She turns to meet his eyes. "I do appreciate the gesture, but you really didn't have to get breakfast for me. You don't plan on doing this again tomorrow, do you?"

As is so often the case, her thoughts are indiscernible behind her gentle expression. He studies her for a moment longer before responding. "It pleases me to assist you with your efforts to arrange your schedule in a satisfying fashion. If providing you with a healthful breakfast will be beneficial to you, then I ask you to please allow me to continue."

She seems to be studying his expression as intently as he is studying hers. Finally, she takes a deep breath. "Okay. It was very helpful. But I'll only let you continue on one condition."

"And that is?"

"From now on, you need to let me treat you at our regular Thursday lunch. To pay you back."

Her face is firm, and though he feels no need for remuneration, he sees that she is determined. "Very well." He nods. "I accept your condition."

A smile returns to her face. "Good."

Spock continues to bring her coffee and breakfast every morning. And she continues to pay for lunch every Thursday. But when they go to dinner, or to concerts, or art exhibits, they take turns paying. It is their system, and it works for them. As long as they keep their accounts balanced, everything makes sense.

***

T'Pring did not enjoy the selection of jazz that Spock sent her, so he sends her another selection of Earth music that he suspects will be more suitable to her tastes.

When he initiates communications for their weekly conversation, he is curious to see if he chose correctly.

When Spock asks her what she thought of the music, she replies, "These pieces were very acceptable. Some of them were almost Vulcan. I found the works of Bach particularly agreeable."

Spock has always enjoyed Bach very much, and the corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. He has finally found something he can share with T'Pring.

They spend most of their thirty minutes discussing the Bach selections that he sent her, and comparing them to relevant Vulcan compositions. Before bidding farewell, Spock agrees to send T'Pring recordings of Bach's entire body of work.

Spock feels well satisfied when they end their communication. It was the most pleasing conversation he has ever had with T'Pring.

***

On a warm evening in early November, Spock and Nyota go to dinner at a restaurant near the Aquatic Park beach. They both have sourdough bread-bowls filled with soup--Nyota chooses the classic clam chowder, while Spock selects the vegetarian cauliflower-cheese soup. Spock pays.

After they eat, they stroll along the bustling beach, chatting.

"I finally got to the tenth-century composers on that data-chip you gave me," Nyota says, referring to the collection of Vulcan music he gave her last Christmas. "The lute solos by Tybaz are amazing. They absolutely take my breath away."

"Tybaz is one of my favorites," replies Spock. "I am currently learning his twenty-eighth composition."

Nyota's brows knit. "Learning? What do you mean?"

"I am learning to play the composition on my lute."

She suddenly halts, grabbing him lightly by the elbow. The feeling of her fingers on his arm is unexpectedly pleasant.

"Wait a minute," she says. "We've been friends for more than a year, and you've never told me you play the Vulcan lute."

"You never asked." He is amused by her apparent indignation.

After a moment she shakes her head, releasing his arm. "No, I don't suppose I did."

They begin to walk again. "There was no occasion for it to come up," he replies. "I had not played regularly for several years until this past summer, when I decided to work a regular practice time into my schedule. Perhaps you can visit my apartment sometime soon, and I can perform for you--though I fear my skills are far inferior to those of the performer featured on the recording I gave you."

"Don't be so modest. I would love to hear you play."

He wonders if he is becoming illogically fond of her smile. It pleases him far more than it should.

"What inspired you to start practicing again?" she asks.

"I was discussing music with T'Pring," he says, and relates to her his thoughts upon hearing that T'Pring had given up her practice of the flute.

Nyota remarks that she is glad he decided to take up his instrument again, and then looks away, out toward the ocean.

"I didn't know you were in contact with T'Pring again." She tracks the flight of a gull with her eyes.

"Then I have been remiss in thanking you for your advice. Last December you recommended that I seek a better acquaintance with T'Pring, and I have been engaged in that endeavor ever since."

Her eyes turn downward toward the sand, and she clasps her hands behind her back. "Do feel like you're getting to know her better?"

His talks with T'Pring have none of the ease and familiarity of his conversations with Nyota, but he feels that he is finally making progress. "Somewhat," he says. "She is… not an easy woman to talk to. However, there are many years before we will be expected to marry. I am certain that we will be well acquainted when the time comes."

Nyota nods, her eyes still on the sand.

They walk for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the ocean and the other passers-by.

Since Nyota set the precedent in touching him, Spock decides to follow her example of friendly affection and gently rests the tips of his fingers on her arm. Her pace slows, and she looks up into his eyes. Instead of the sense of casual affection Spock had hoped for, he perceives that his unexpected touch has created a strange uneasy tension between them. He drops his hand, and hastily speaks.

"Would Wednesday evening be a convenient time for you to come to my apartment to listen to my performance?" He still desires to play for her. He wishes for her opinions on his performance--and even for her approval. An illogical desire, perhaps, but one which he cannot deny.

She turns away from his gaze to look up at the city lights. "No. I don't think I can come this week. I've been promising myself that I would spend extra time in the library and finally decide on a topic for my thesis. I'm not going to be one of those cadets that saves the whole thing for her last five months at the Academy and then churns out mediocre work. I want to do something more meaningful than that."

"A worthy goal." He nods, quickly suppressing the small sting of rejection that threatens to rise in his mind. "What topics are you considering?"

She lists three possible topics--two involving Romulan languages, and one involving Andorian. He wonders if she will ask him to serve as her advisor if she chooses one of the Romulan topics. He hopes that she will.

They soon return to the Academy and part ways for the night.

Before preparing for slumber, Spock deviates from his normal routine and spends some extra time practicing his lute. He wants to be ready when Nyota has time to come and listen.

***

Ten days after their outing to Aquatic Park, Nyota arrives at Spock's office in the morning with a broad smile on her face. Spock suspects that she has some sort of good news to convey, and he asks her as much while she begins spreading jam on her morning bagel.

"I've finalized my thesis topic," she says. "I have an advisor committed and everything."

His eyebrow shoots up. She must not have chosen either of the Romulan language topics, or she surely would have asked him to serve as her advisor.

"Which topic did you choose?"

She takes a gulp of coffee. "I'm going to do a practical thesis. I'm going to write up a plan for modifying all Federation Universal Translators with an updated program that will provide more accurate translations of Klingon idiomatic phrases."

Spock is startled. This topic in no way resembles any of her previous ideas. "How did you settle on this choice of topic?"

"Well," she says after swallowing a spoonful of yogurt, "I read a paper two days ago in the latest issue of Xenolinguistics Digest detailing how four recent skirmishes with Klingons could have been avoided if the Universal Translators provided more accurate translations of idiomatic phrases."

Spock read the same article. The writer had not made his case as forcefully as he could have, but his examples did support his underlying argument for updated translation capabilities.

"And yesterday," Nyota continues, "I was talking about the article with Commander Ford from the Klingon language department, and it struck me. If I do this as my thesis, my work could become standard programming in all Universal Translators throughout the Federation. I could impact millions of lives. I might even help save lives. I proposed the idea to Commander Ford, and he agreed to be my advisor right on the spot."

Her eyes shine with excitement. Spock's momentary disappointment about not being her advisor vanishes.

"You have made an excellent choice," he says. "This is a highly ambitious project, which could do much to advance your career. Will you need any assistance writing the programming code? I will make time in my schedule to help you, if you desire it."

She grins at him. "I appreciate the offer, but I've got it covered. My roommate, Gaila Falan-Raz, is a computer programming major. She's really excited about my project, and she wants to do a joint thesis. I'll do the language work and she'll do the programming. We're going to spend all our free time next week working on our proposal. And, hopefully, by the end of the semester everything will be approved and ready to go."

Spock feels another stirring of disappointment, though he cannot fathom why. Nyota's project is well-suited for her capabilities, and he is certain that it will lead to a marked improvement in Universal Translator technology. He pushes the unwelcome feeling aside and offers to assist her in any way possible--an offer which she gladly accepts.

It is not until the end of the day, as he meditates before bed that the reason for his disappointment occurs to him. Nyota's work on a project of such magnitude will inevitably take up a great deal of time in her schedule. Time that she otherwise might have spent with him.

He is disappointed in himself for exhibiting such selfish tendencies, and resolves to focus on overcoming them. He momentarily considers examining his emotional reactions more closely in order to determine the underlying cause of his selfishness, but dismisses the idea quickly. No good can come from dwelling too much on his emotions. He must simply work to rein them in. That will be enough.

**Author's note: **I hope to hae another chapter up before the end of the week. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Again, much thanks to my beta reader MrsTater. And thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I don't usually have time to write personal replies, but I read and appreciate all of them. Thank you!

Chapter Three

_When Spock was sixteen years old his family spent five weeks on Earth while his father completed diplomatic duties. This was the fourth such trip of Spock's lifetime, but the first in three years. The first three weeks were mildly interesting, but he spent most of his time in the Embassy guest quarters studying--his Science Academy entrance exams were only a year away._

_During the fourth week, he and his mother went to Seattle to stay with Spock's Human uncle, Robert, and his family. Spock had two cousins, the fifteen year old Marissa, and the eleven year old Kate. Though Spock desired only to continue his studies, his mother was determined to draw him into social interactions with his cousins._

_He was obliged to attend a family "cookout," only to be frustrated when the scent of the charring meat made him slightly nauseous. Amanda dragged him and his cousins along to the community swimming pool, where he cringed at the way the other Human children stared at him._

_Finally, on Friday night, Amanda insisted that he accompany Marissa to a party with her friends. "It will be the perfect place for you to learn more about Human social interaction," she said. "You need to stop hiding from your Human half and start embracing it once in a while!" Spock knew better than to tell his mother that he had no interest in embracing his Human half. _

_Marissa was not a disagreeable person. She worked hard to find topics which she could converse with Spock about, and he tried to reciprocate. But the thought of spending an entire evening solely in the company of Marissa and her friends was extremely unpleasant. Nevertheless, Spock did as his mother demanded and went to the party._

_The party area was far too crowded, and Spock had difficulty evading unwanted physical contact. The noise levels were too loud, making conversation difficult. There were few vegetarian offerings among the provided food. And many of the beverages contained gaseous carbon dioxide--something Spock found extremely disagreeable._

_Eventually he was able to locate a comparatively quite corner with a small sofa on which to sit. After only moments Marissa appeared with one of her friends, and the two young women squeezed in beside him._

_"Spock, this is Celine. She's been dying to meet you," said Marissa._

_The girl waved. "I am sooo interested in Vulcan," she said. "I want to ask you all about it."_

_Marissa stood, leaving Spock alone with Celine on the sofa. "I'll leave you two to talk."_

_Spock watched helplessly as his cousin strode away. Celine slid closer to him, until their legs touched. Her smile was broad and artful. Spock was unsure of her true intent, but he felt certain that learning more about Vulcan was not her primary objective._

_Fortunately, Celine was not as empty-headed as she had at first appeared. Her curiosity about Vulcan proved to be, at least in part, genuine._

_For more than a half an hour Spock was able to converse intelligently with Celine about his home world, and after the first ten minutes he was almost able to ignore the pressure of her leg against his._

_Just as Spock was finally beginning to relax, Marissa and several of her friends beckoned them, inviting them to join some sort of social ritual that involved spinning a bottle. Celine leaped to her feet, and grabbed Spock's hand, pulling him up beside her. He cringed at the unwelcome touch, and grudgingly followed her to the small room where Marissa and her group were now sitting in a tight circle on the floor._

_Spock managed to detach himself from Celine, and sat in between Marissa and a young man._

_One of the other young men in the circle placed an empty beverage bottle in the center of the circle, and spun it on the ground. When the bottle ceased its revolutions, the mouth of the bottle pointed at Marissa._

_Spock looked on in stunned silence as the young man and Marissa leaned across the center of the circle to kiss on the lips as the other young people laughed and whooped. Marissa then spun the bottle, and when it pointed to a young woman across the circle, once again the two leaned in to kiss on the lips._

_Spock sat with growing discomfort as the ritual proceeded. Eventually, it was Celine's turn to spin the bottle. She carefully gave the bottle a small half-twist, and it quickly stopped, pointing directly at Spock._

_Every muscle in his body tensed. It was his social obligation to complete the ritual, but every ounce of his cultural training cried out against it. The entire circle fell silent, watching him. He could perceive the pressure of their gazes as if it was a tangible weight._

_After what seemed like minutes (though Spock realistically knew that only fourteen seconds had passed), he unclenched his muscles, shifted to his knees, and leaned into the circle to do his social duty._

_Spock's eyes remained open as Celine leaned forward, placed her hand on the ground to steady herself, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips against his._

_Her lips felt cool and soft, and she moved them against his immobile lips in a kind of gentle dance. He was utterly unprepared for the sudden flood of endorphins into his bloodstream. He could feel his heart rate increasing as blood rushed to his face and his groin. With a sharp intake of breath, he felt himself leaning into her touch, his lips parting ever-so-slightly. She took advantage of his reaction, and ran the tip of her tongue briefly between his lips before pulling back with a grin on her face._

_Spock sank stiffly back to floor, crossing his legs and folding his arms in his lap in an attempt to hide his physical reaction._

_"Your ears are turning green," Marissa whispered in his ear. He watched in silent gratitude as she took the bottle for herself and spared him the ordeal of having to spin it._

_Fortunately the ritual ended a few minutes later._

_As Spock attempted to make his way to the cool quite of the back garden, Celine was suddenly at his side. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?"_

_"Yes." He avoided meeting her eyes, but her smile was not unkind._

_"I've never been anyone's first kiss, before. I like that. For the rest of your life you'll remember that Celine Knudsen was your very first kiss." _

_Spock was astonished by the obvious look of pleasure on her face._

_Less than an hour later his uncle Robert arrived to pick them up. Spock had never been more grateful to see his uncle. _

_The next morning his mother asked him about the party._

_"It was unpleasant and chaotic," he replied. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "One of Marissa's friends kissed me on the lips."_

_Amanda's brows rose. "Is that so? Did you like it?"_

_Spock's eyes darted away from her face. "It provoked an unexpected physical reaction. Fortunately the light was dim and I was sitting on the floor. I believe was able to conceal the signs of my reaction."_

_Amanda's eyes went wide, and, after two seconds, she smiled and chuckled. "It sounds like you've discovered that you're more Human than you ever suspected."_

_Spock was troubled by her insight. He was not eager to experience any more unexpected Human sensations at unwanted moments. He decided to add more meditation time to his daily schedule. Perhaps that would be enough to gain better self-control._

***

As Nyota begins her thesis research in earnest, her availability for socialization beyond work hours grows increasingly restricted. Spock reminds himself daily that he is pleased for her ambitious enthusiasm and does not at all miss her company. His reminders do not always suffice.

Just before the winter holiday she and her roommate submit their proposal. Before she leaves for the holiday, he is able to take Nyota to a presentation of a traditional Human dance production, _The Nutcracker_, before she departs for her two week break. He finds the story inane and the dancing merely proficient, but is very pleased to spend time with Nyota again. He hopes that now that her proposal is complete, she will have increased free time after the break.

Unfortunately, such is not the case. Nyota seems busier than ever after her return.

Spock seeks out other ways to fulfill his social impulses. He begins to play regular games of chess with Captain Pike, as they once did while serving together on the _Exeter._ He attends a chamber music concert with the xenolinguistics department chair, Commodore Ripley. He visits a technology exposition with Captain Olvedos, head of Campus Computing Services. And he enters several local chess tournaments.

Those diversions are agreeable, but Spock still finds himself looking most forward to his rare hours with Nyota. Though her evenings and weekends are largely occupied, she begins joining him for lunch more often than their usual Thursday appointment. Often she only has time for a half-hour rendezvous in one of the dining halls on campus, but he is pleased with any time she can spare.

Though Spock has often heard the term "best friend" in the past, he never understood the full implications of such a relationship until now. He recognizes that he prefers Nyota's company to that of any other friend he has ever had. Her character and personality compliment his own in a way that he finds deeply satisfying. And, now that she is busier, he discovers that there is no adequate substitute for her companionship.

He fears that his attachment to Nyota is taking on undesirable emotional overtones. In his next conversation with his mother he asks her for more information regarding the Human relationship of "best friends," and inquires if she has observed any corollary relationships among the Vulcans of her acquaintance.

When she assures him that Vulcans do indeed have best friends, and describes the characteristics of such friendships, Spock concludes that his fears of excessive emotionalism were unfounded. It is logical to form close mental and social bonds with compatible friends.

When his mother asks him why he wanted to know more about "best friends," he answers truthfully. He tells her that he has developed such a relationship with his teaching assistant.

"Your TA is a young woman, is she not?" Amanda asks.

"Yes. Nyota Uhura is twenty-two years of age."

"Hmmm." His mother nods.

"You seem troubled."

"No. Not troubled. Simply…curious. I'm pleased that you have a best friend, Spock. I'd love to hear more about her."

Spock sees no reason not to indulge his mother's desire. He speaks of Nyota at some length, and is somewhat surprised by how much he has to say about her. More than an hour passes before he realizes he needs to return to his duties.

Before terminating communication, Amanda remarks that she would very much like to meet Miss Uhura if the opportunity presents itself. Spock has no objections, though his mother's expression seems to conceal some hidden motive. He cannot guess what it might be.

***

In mid-February, Nyota begins excusing herself from any extra lunches with Spock. He understands her desire to get a good start on her thesis, but he does not understand why she must spend nearly all her lunch hours studying. It seems excessive.

On the first Thursday of March, during her morning work session in his office, Nyota tells Spock that she will have to excuse herself from their regular Thursday lunch. She offers no excuse or explanation. It is the first Thursday (other than holidays) that they have not lunched together since September.

"I understand," says Spock, with a nod. He clenches his jaw and turns back to his console, feeling a surge of frustration.

Even after Nyota departs, the frustration remains. During his phonology lecture, he finds himself snapping at a cadet after he makes an uninformed reply to one of Spock's queries.

Normally, when Spock's emotions rise he is able to repress them through a series of simple mental exercises. Today, however, none of his normal exercises seem to work. He resolves to get his emotions under control by spending his lunch hour fasting and meditating.

He feels almost himself when the hour concludes.

When Nyota returns for afternoon work session, he greets her calmly, and assigns her several tasks.

After sixteen minutes of working in silence, Nyota speaks. "You're perturbed with me, aren't you?"

He continues to work at his console as he responds. "That is an inaccurate description of my current state."

"Is it? You've hardly spoken to me all day, and this morning when I canceled our lunch you looked like you wanted to break something."

He spins to look at her. She gives him a pointed look and raises her eyebrows.

"I apologize if my reaction this morning led you to believe I wished to commit acts of violence. I assure you I desired no such thing."

Her lips slowly curl up. "Maybe not consciously."

"And you believe that you understand my unconscious desires better than I do?"

"Sometimes I think I might." Before he has a chance to respond to her outrageous statement, she continues. "I think I owe you an explanation for why I've been avoiding you lately."

His stomach stirs uncomfortably. He had not allowed himself to think of her actions of late as _avoiding him_, but he sees now that is exactly what she has been doing. He wonders if he has misinterpreted the closeness of their friendship.

"There's two reasons--one good and one bad," she says. "I think I'll start with the bad, and get it out of the way."

She takes a deep breath. "People have noticed how much time we've been spending together--especially since we've been eating lunch together on campus so often. One of the other TAs told me that there are some nasty rumors circulating about us."

"What sort of rumors?"

"People are saying…" she, fidgets and glances down at her hands. "They're saying that we're more than just friends. They're insinuating that we're having some sort of affair."

His stomach clenches into a tight knot. "This is unacceptable. Who is spreading these rumors?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not completely sure. Mostly other TAs."

"Such malicious gossip is utterly unprofessional. I consider it a gross violation of our privacy. What right do these people have to actively apply such uninformed misinterpretations to our relationship?" His hands clench into fists at his side. He has not felt so angry since the day he stood before the Vulcan High Council as they insulted his mother and his heritage.

"None! It's ridiculous the things people will talk about just for entertainment." Somehow, Nyota seems less concerned than she should. As if the situation is no more than a minor annoyance.

"We should attempt to discern the source of these rumors, so that we can confront the persons responsible," he says.

"Oh, I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?"

She sighs. "It's one of the quirks of Human culture. Confronting people about this sort of gossip usually makes things worse instead of better. It will make it look like we're trying to conceal our guilt."

His brows knit. "This is highly illogical."

"I know." She shrugs. "Unfortunately, that's just they way these things work."

"What course of action do you recommend?" Nyota seems to be far more aware of how to handle such delicate social situations than he is. It makes sense to defer to her expertise.

"I think we should take a break from spending time together on campus outside of my office hours. If people stop seeing us socializing together, they'll lose interest in the rumors and the gossip will fade away on its own."

Spock dislikes this solution immensely, but cannot think of any persuasive refutations, given that the situation defies logic. "Very well."

"This doesn't mean we have to give up our Thursday lunches," she says quickly. "Your friendship is important to me, and I'm not going to let some ugly gossip bully me into giving that up. We'll just have to pick restaurants a little further from campus."

This is much more agreeable. His anger begins to dissipate. "Your friendship is important to me, as well, Nyota. That is why these rumors are so disturbing."

"I know." She rolls her eyes. "You'd think that Starfleet cadets would be mature enough to realize that men and women can be friends in a purely platonic way. Besides, you're the very last man at the Academy who would ever violate the Academy Code of Conduct."

He notes that she says nothing in regards to whether or not _she_ would ever break the rules, but he chooses not to read unintended meanings into her words. "No. I most certainly would not."

After he speaks, it occurs to him that if compelling logic dictates him to act in a manner contrary to the Code of Conduct, he very well may break the rules. But such a circumstance is highly unlikely to occur.

She nods. "Yeah. Of course not." He does not allow himself to read disappointment in her expression. The slight downturn of her lips and faint wrinkles in her forehead could mean anything.

"Well," she says, "if we keep our outings discreet, the gossip will probably die off in a month or two. Then we can get back to living normally again."

"I dislike having to alter my patterns of behavior merely to quell gossip, but if you think it is best, I will follow your recommendation." He recognizes that he is far too emotional regarding this issue. Perhaps spending less time with Nyota will make it easier to regain his emotional control.

"I do think it's best."

"Then I will comply. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention."

"You're welcome. And there's one other thing that will help end the gossip pretty quickly." A soft smile forms on her face.

Spock raises an eyebrow. "What is that?"

"Well, it's actually the other reason I've been avoiding you--the good reason. And I haven't really been avoiding you so much as going out of my way to see someone else." Her smile blossoms into a grin.

"Explain."

Her eyes dart away from his, but her grin does not falter. "Two weeks ago, Gaila convinced me to go to a nightclub with her on Friday night, to unwind. And while I was there, I met someone." She looks back up to meet his eyes. "A man. His name is Cedric Long. We really hit it off and… we've started dating." Her smile looks almost timid.

Spock's stomach clenches again, acid rising in his throat. He does not understand his physiological reaction to her news. Romantic relationships are a normal part of Human life--a part that most Humans seem to need in order to feel truly fulfilled. He should be pleased that his friend has found an acceptable outlet to satisfy her emotional need. But he is not.

Suddenly all his indignation over the gossip disappears. His mind is now wholly occupied with Nyota's new revelation.

"You have time for this sort of relationship?"

She chuckles, shaking her head. "Probably not. But I'm making time. I've always been one to go on the occasional date, just for a change of pace. But with Cedric, things are different. We've already seen each other six times in the last two weeks. It's almost…magical."

Spock is concerned for Nyota. She is not one to let emotion overrule common sense, but her emotional needs may be driving her to make hasty decisions. He asks several questions about Cedric Long, seeking to obtain the information he requires to determine the man's suitability for Nyota.

She tells him that Cedric is not, as he at first suspected, another cadet. Instead, he is a musician--a violinist with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. Nyota explains that when the orchestra is not performing, he moonlights in a classical/rock fusion band. He was performing at the club the night they met.

As she speaks her eyes take on an uncharacteristically glassy appearance. Her mind seems unfocused, and she gazes at random points of the wall rather than focusing on either Spock or her console. Her level of distraction is very troubling.

Spock wishes to meet this man who has so unsettled her mind, and judge him face to face. But such a desire is both impractical, and illogical. Nyota is a woman fully capable of making her own decisions in such matters.

Finally, he asks. "Nyota, does this new relationship make you happy?"

Her smile softens again. "It does. Very much."

Spock nods, and replies against his own inclination. "That is most agreeable. I… am always pleased to see you happy."

***

Discussions of music have dominated Spock's weekly conversations with T'Pring for several months. On the third Sunday in February, however, her mind is occupied with other matters.

T'Pring tells Spock in detail of an important breakthrough she's made in her development of a new protein-rich hybridized grain crop. Spock has never before seen her speak with such enthusiasm about anything. Her excitement brightens her eyes considerably. At this moment she is very nearly as aesthetically pleasing as Nyota.

He silently chides himself for making such a meaningless comparison when he should be fully engaged in T'Pring's description of her achievement.

He compensates by asking several questions about her work. Her responses are illuminating.

Eventually, he remarks, "Have you ever considered expanding your specialty to include Xenobotany?"

"I briefly considered the field many years ago, but soon abandoned it in favor of my current specialty. I have seen no reason to alter my chosen vocation."

"I made my inquiry with the thought that if you specialized in Xenobotany, you could join Starfleet. Given your current level of education and expertise you would be exempted from undergraduate studies at Starfleet Academy, and would be able to enter a graduate program immediately after completing six months of officer candidate training."

"I see no purpose in joining Starfleet."

Spock feels a twinge of frustration. Surely the logic of such a course is apparent. "Your enlistment in Starfleet would greatly facilitate our ability to be together after our marriage."

T'Pring's lips tighten briefly. "Not long after you left for Starfleet Academy I concluded that our relationship would largely be an absentee marriage. I am prepared for this arrangement, and will be content with living apart."

His frustration intensifies. An absentee marriage holds no appeal for him. He has always admired and aspired to the close companionship and partnership of his parents. The idea of entering a marriage with no such closeness is barely tolerable.

Spock is able to restrain his emotions sufficient to close out the conversation with several polite remarks, but ends the communication after only twenty-one minutes, rather the usual thirty.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **As ever, thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! Your words of encouragement mean a lot to me. And thanks to my spiffy beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter Four

_Two months into Spock's freshman year at Starfleet Academy, something unusual happened--a group of nine Human female cadets from his dormitory started seeking out his company with a high degree of frequency. Several at a time would walk with him to and from his classes. Some sought out his services as a tutor, while others attempted to enlist him in study groups._

_Frequently the entire group of them would sit together in the dining hall, and once Spock made the error of accepting their invitation to join them. The conversation was so raucous, chaotic, and occasionally lewd that he was distinctly uncomfortable for the duration of his meal. Thereafter he resumed eating with his customary group of friends, largely composed of other male cadets on the science officer track._

_One evening, as Spock ignored the table full of loudly beckoning females to join his usual friends, one of them, Ramón Alvarez, said, "Why do you keep avoiding them? If I had a bunch of hot girls all over me, I wouldn't sit here with you guys. Would you?" He directed his final question to the three other cadets at their table. They all shook their heads, and agreed that sitting with the women would be preferable._

_Spock held his ground, insisting that conversation with his friends was far more agreeable. His roommate, Chin-Hwa, spoke up. "You don't sit with girls like that for the conversation."_

_Spock raised an eyebrow. "If conversation is not the objective, then what is?"_

_"Well, you know…" Chin-Hwa shrugged. "…to try to hook up with one of them."_

_"Or more than one of them," said Ramón with a chuckle._

_"I am unfamiliar with that expression," replied Spock. "Please explain what it means to _hook up_."_

_Ramón chuckled again. "It means," his voice lowered to a soft hiss, "to _have sex._"_

_Spock's eyes widened in surprise. "You suggest that I attempt to copulate with one or more of those cadets?"_

_"I would." Ramón grinned, and their other companions laughed._

_Spock knew that Humans did not restrict themselves to sexual relations within the confines of marriage as Vulcans did, but he had not expected them to take part in such casual promiscuity. It was shocking, to say the least._

_"I do not desire to participate in Human sexual practices," he said. " I intend to focus on my studies."_

_His friends laughed and shook their heads, but they let it go._

_Spock did his best to avoid the aggressive females for the next several weeks, and eventually they gave up._

_In the second semester, however, Spock found himself in the same class as one of the females from the group--Poonam Lahiri. He reluctantly agreed to let her join his study group, and was surprised to find her company pleasant and her conversation intellectually engaging. By the end of the semester, he had come to consider her a friend._

_After finals, as everyone prepared to go their separate ways for the summer, Spock and Poonam shared one final lunch together._

_As they ate, she looked down and shook her head. "I owe you an apology, Spock."_

_"For what?"_

_She sighed. "I feel silly telling you this but I've been feeling guilty about it for months, and I need to get it off my chest."_

_Spock was more puzzled than ever. "I do not understand."_

_"Okay. Here's the story. You remember how lots of my friends started hanging all over you for a while last semester?"_

_He nodded. "I do."_

_"It was because of a sort of pact we made." She closed her eyes and sighed again. "We'd all gone out for a night on the town, and we'd all had a little too much to drink. And we started talking about you."_

_"About me?"_

_"Yes. About you." She pushed her food around her plate with her fork. "You're a very good-looking man, Spock."_

_His eyebrows shot up. "I am?" He never would have guessed that Human females would think of him that way._

_"You are." She put down her fork and looked up at him. "Like I said. We were all a little drunk. And once we started talking about you the conversation turned to Vulcan sexuality, and how repressed you all seem to be. And we all agreed that you were probably a virgin. And we…"_

_She shook her head again. "I can't believe I'm telling you this." She took a deep breath. "We…all made a pact that one of us would be the first to--you know--deflower you."_

_She put her face in her hands and groaned. "Oh, God, we were so drunk!"_

_"I still don't understand. What does _deflower_ mean?"_

_She groaned again. "It means to relieve someone of their virginity."_

_"Oh." Now Spock understood. Finally the female cadets' behavior made sense, and so did Poonam's obvious embarrassment._

_"I'm so sorry, Spock. Now that I know you better I respect you way too much not to feel horrible about how ridiculous we all were. I'm really, really sorry." She seemed deeply distressed. _

_"Do not concern yourself," said Spock. "I respect your desire to make amends; however, I assure you it is unnecessary. Your actions have done me no harm, and I am not offended. I understand how important sexuality is to Humans. Your curiosity was natural."_

_"But sexuality isn't that important to Vulcans, is it?"_

_"No. It is not."_

_Poonam thanked Spock for taking things so well. They remained friends throughout their time at the Academy. And his experience with her taught Spock that it was unfortunate that so many Humans seemed to let their sexual drives get in the way of forming true intellectually-based friendships. He was determined never to allow such a thing to happen to himself._

***

Though Nyota keeps her word and never again misses their Thursday lunch, Spock detects a growing tension between them. He knows that her relationship with Cedric is much on her mind, but he perceives her reluctance to discuss it. And he cannot fault her for it.

His reactions to any conversation regarding her relationship have grown increasingly hostile. It takes him several weeks to recognize this trend, and he is ashamed of his excessive emotionalism concerning this matter. However, none of his efforts during meditation have been sufficient to overcome his difficulties.

One day in early April they spend most of the afternoon in an uncomfortable silence after Spock makes a sharp remark regarding cadets who spend too much time focusing on their personal lives and not enough time on their studies. He did not intend the remark to apply to Nyota, but rather to the students in his classes. However, the impact of his words on Nyota's emotional state is obvious. He has hurt her.

Before she leaves at the end of her work period, he turns in his chair, straightens his back, and addresses her.

"Nyota."

She looks up from her console, her face somber.

His dislikes seeing her this way--particularly when he has been the cause of her distress. "I must apologize to you for… hurting your feelings. I never intended to cause you harm, nor will I ever knowingly do so."

A small, tight-lipped smile forms on her face. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I accept your apology."

Though most of the length of the room lies between them, Spock leans toward her, as if his action will create a greater sense of intimacy. "I wish to explain why I have been behaving in a somewhat disagreeable manner lately."

"No." She shakes her head. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Spock."

"Please. Allow me." His tone is soft.

She nods. "Okay."

He rests his arms on his thighs, tenting his fingers together. He stares at his hands. "My people are trained from an early age to control and repress our emotions. Some Humans assume that this means we have no emotions at all. Let me assure you that this is not the case. We have very deep, very powerful emotional drives. It is only the discipline of logic and repression that allows us to control these emotions, thereby preventing them from ruling over us."

His eyes dart briefly up. Her eyes are fixed on his face, but he cannot bring himself to meet her gaze. He looks back down at his hands. "I must report that in recent weeks my emotional control is less than what it ought to have been. May I confide a personal matter with you?"

She slides her wheeled chair closer to him, and mirrors his leaning posture. "Of course you can. I'm you're friend. If you have something that you need to talk about, I'll always be here for you."

"Thank you, Nyota." His eyes briefly dart to her face again, before returning to his hands.

He takes a deep breath before continuing. "During my recent conversations with T'Pring, it has become increasingly obvious that our goals and plans for the future are highly incompatible. I am left with a great uncertainty for my future. I fear that a union with T'Pring will be disagreeable for us both. Betrothals such as ours can be dissolved prematurely, but taking such a course for any but extreme reasons is looked down upon. It is viewed as selfish, illogical, and dishonorable. I would bring shame upon myself and my family if I followed such a course."

He finally meets Nyota's eyes. What he sees there is tenderness. Acceptance. Empathy. He knows now with certainty that he is right to confess his difficulties to her.

"This situation," he says, "has frustrated me and caused a great deal of emotional agitation. My normal methods of emotional control have been insufficient to prevent the outward signs of my agitation. I am sorry." He knows that his confusion over how to proceed with T'Pring is not the only source of his current emotional difficulty, but he is, as yet, not entirely certain how to quantify or explain the distress he feels due to Nyota's new relationship. He cannot even explain it to himself, so it would be inappropriate to attempt to explain it to anyone else.

She slides even closer to him. "Spock, this is nothing you need to apologize for. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. I wish I could give some sort of great advice to help you, but your situation is so…uniquely Vulcan that I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Do not trouble yourself." He shakes his head. "I perceive that confessing my difficulty has already sufficed to unburden me of some of my frustration."

"I'm glad." She smiles, and slides even closer. "Do you think your parents might be able to help you? Maybe if you explained things to them--"

"No." Broaching such a topic with Sarek is unthinkable. "My father would have no sympathy for my dilemma."

"What about your mother?"

This is a possibility that Spock has not seriously considered. "Perhaps. My mother often has unique insights into Vulcan culture, standing both within and without as she does. Her perspective may be of benefit."

"Spring break is next week," says Nyota. "If you want, you could book a trip to Vulcan to see your mother in person. And maybe you could even visit T'Pring. I think that if you have a chance to spend time together in person you'll get a deeper understanding of one another that you could never get over subspace. That might help you make your mind up once and for all."

Spock sits up straight again. "You may not have felt that your advice would be worthwhile, but you were mistaken. You are correct that speaking only over subspace has been insufficient. My confusion and frustration will never be resolved until I gain a more personal and intimate understanding of T'Pring's character. I shall look into scheduling a trip to Vulcan immediately."

He inclines his head toward her. "Thank you, Nyota. I am grateful for your friendship."

She smiles. "And I'm grateful for yours. I hope this works for you."

"As do I."

***

The day before his departure for Vulcan, Nyota convinces Spock to come with her to watch Cedric's band perform.

Spock has successfully avoided a personal encounter with Cedric, and had intended to continue to avoid such encounters. But Nyota can be very persuasive.

When he appeared reluctant to accept her invitation she drew close to him, held his gaze, and placed her hand lightly on his upper arm. "Please? I used to feel like I could share everything with you, but now it seems like there's this huge part of my life that you know nothing about, and I hate it. I don't want my relationship with Cedric to come between us." She briefly squeezed his arm. "Please? Come listen to his music, and meet him. It would mean a lot to me."

Spock couldn't possibly refuse.

Now he sits stiffly on his barstool holding his glass of iced tea, his eyes studying the performers on stage beyond the undulating crowd on the dance floor. Nyota sits beside him, leaning back against the bar with a soft smile on her face.

Spock remembers when she used to smile at him like that. But now it is directed at someone else.

The band is composed of one singer, one drummer, one guitarist, one bass guitarist, two cellists, and two violinists. The violinists sit on stools on the left side of the stage. The taller of the two has sweat glistening on brown skin of his smooth-shaved scalp, and he grins and taps his foot in time as he plays. He is the one Nyota smiles for.

Spock concludes that Cedric is a competent musician and an engaging performer, but no virtuoso. The band is moderately entertaining, but the uninspired lyrics and mediocre singing detracts from the high quality instrumentals.

Though Spock and Nyota are separated from the stage by a crowd of dancers and two rows of tables, Spock counts twelve distinct moments when Cedric clearly locks eyes with Nyota over the course of his band's hour-long set. Spock is grateful that the club is too noisy for much conversation--he has no idea what he would say.

Ten minutes after the set ends, Nyota leads Spock to the backstage area. Cedric and the other band-members mill around in the back hall with friends as their equipment and instruments are loaded into a van parked behind the club.

As soon as Cedric sees Nyota he breaks free from the group, and strides toward them, grinning. He forgoes any verbal greeting, instead pulling Nyota into his arms and pressing his lips fiercely against hers.

Spock's teeth clench together as Cedric, apparently oblivious to anything around him other than Nyota, pulls her closer, running his fingers through her loose hair as he deepens their kiss. Spock feels a sudden impulse to throw Cedric against the wall and slam a fist into his face.

Stunned by his own violent urge, Spock closes his eyes and takes several deep, steadying breaths while mentally reviewing a mathematical theorem. Such exercises almost always succeed in calming his occasional emotional outbursts.

A few moments later, he reopens his eyes in time to see Nyota finally pulling back from Cedric's embrace. Though Spock still feels a twinge of anger, he has successfully purged all of his violent impulses.

"Cedric, I want you to meet my friend, Spock." Cedric follows Nyota's gaze toward Spock, and grins again.

"So you're the famous Spock! Nyota's told me all about you." He extends his hand toward Spock, who eyes the hand distastefully. Most Starfleet personnel are sufficiently culturally aware that they refrain from attempting to shake his hand. Apparently, Cedric does not share that level of awareness.

Just as Nyota grips Cedric's shoulder and mutters, "Ced--you can't…" Spock extends his arm and, with tight lips, gives Cedric's hand a quick shake, doing his best to close his mind to any telepathic impressions.

Nyota gives Spock a grateful smile, and the three of them exchange trivial pleasantries. Spock refrains from expressing his criticisms of the band. He recognizes that this is one of those moments where Human politeness must take precedence over honesty. Beyond that, he senses that harsh or critical behavior toward Cedric will only alienate Nyota.

After a short time, Spock excuses himself. "I have a long voyage to make in the morning. I should return home."

"Great meeting you, Spock," says Cedric.

Spock takes a deep breath, and grits his teeth again. "Likewise." With a nod of farewell, he turns to walk away.

A moment later, he feels the light touch of a hand on his arm. He stops, and turned to see Nyota.

She smiles up at him. "I'm really happy you came tonight. Thank you."

As Spock looks down at her face, another surge of uncontrolled emotion wells within him--frustration, anger, jealousy, and longing. At this moment he finally recognizes a truth that he has been ignoring--even hiding from--for a very long time. His regard for Nyota has progressed well beyond mere friendship. He has begun to desire a deeper, closer relationship with her.

"You are welcome. I was pleased to accompany you."

Nyota moves her hand up to his shoulder. Her touch intensifies his longing. He desires to return her touch--to take her in his arms as freely as Cedric did. But it cannot be. He is her superior officer--her teacher. He cannot give into his desires. To do so would violate the Academy Code of Conduct. Furthermore, it would betray his commitment to T'Pring.

Besides--he does not know whether or not Nyota would be receptive to his advances. It would be illogical to attempt to deepen their relationship until he has a greater certainty of success.

Nyota gently squeezes his shoulder. "I really hope this trip will help you sort things out with T'Pring."

It requires all of Spock's willpower not to return her touch. "Thank you. I appreciate your support."

With a last nod of farewell, Spock turns and leaves the club. He intends to sleep, but his unsettling new awareness of the depth of his regard for Nyota keeps him awake all night long.

***

When Spock arrives at his parents' home, Sarek's greeting is just as distant and formal as Spock has come to expect. He has little hope of mending his relationship with his father at any time in the near future--particularly if he makes the decision to end his bond with T'Pring. Such an action is certain to further alienate Sarek.

Amanda's greeting, however, is warm and loving. Spock is grateful for his mother's constant acceptance and affection. He does not know how to express to her the depth of his gratitude for her unwavering support. He only hopes that somehow, instinctively she knows what she means to him.

Spock spends the first day and a half of his visit with his mother. He allows her to do most of the talking. She tells him that the editor responsible for the publication of most of her academic texts on Vulcan language and culture for a Human audience has long been pestering her to write a memoir, and that in the past few months she has finally begun the endeavor.

Her enthusiasm for the new project is agreeable, and soothes his agitated emotions considerably. He is pleased. Facing T'Pring in such an agitated state would have been unwise.

On the second afternoon of his visit, Amanda's tone changes. "Spock," she says, "I know you didn't come here just to hear about my memoir. Something is troubling you. What is it?"

Spock sits staring at his hands for a moment. He came here for her help--there is no sense in concealing the truth any longer. "I have been in contact with T'Pring for more than a year, and I have begun to doubt the viability of our bond. Our goals and desires are highly incompatible. I have scheduled a meeting with her tomorrow. I hope to make a final determination regarding our relationship. There is a distinct possibility that I will seek a termination of our bond."

Amanda sighs, and the lines around her mouth and eyes suddenly look deeper. "I warned your father that a betrothal might not be a good idea, but he wouldn't listen to me." She shakes her head. "At least you're dealing with your doubts preemptively, instead of waiting until after the marriage takes place."

"Yes. Such an occurrence would have been highly disagreeable. It is better this way." He meets his mother's eyes. "I may yet decide to remain in my bond. I am in need of more information before I can make a final decision. That is why I have come here."

Amanda reaches out to lay a hand on her son's shoulder. "If you need to talk to me after you see T'Pring tomorrow--if you need to work through your thoughts with me--I'll be here. I'll always be here when you need me. And whatever decision you make, I'll stand with you. No matter what anyone else thinks."

Spock's mind drifts back to his conversation with Nyota last week, and how similar her words had been to his mother's. He wonders why he has never noticed the similarities between the two women before now. "I know, mother. Thank you."

***

Spock's first meeting with T'Pring goes surprisingly well. She gives him a tour of the garden she keeps at her home--it serves both as a hobby garden and a site of further research. They also enjoy a meal at a high quality restaurant that utilizes local, in-season vegetables and fruits. He finds T'Pring's company in person more engaging than over subspace, and by the end of their time together he begins to wonder if all his doubts were merely products of his growing affection for Nyota. Perhaps ending his relationship with Nyota rather than with T'Pring is the most logical solution to his difficulties.

That thought causes him unexpected pain, and he strives to repress it. One successful evening cannot provide enough data on which to base such an important decision. He invites T'Pring to join him for another outing the next day, and she readily agrees. He is pleased.

Spock joins T'Pring at her botanical research station shortly before she finishes her work for the day, and she shows him around the station, commenting on all the various ongoing research projects and introducing him to several of her colleagues. She is obviously a well-respected and highly competent researcher. Her enthusiasm for her work is undeniable. It reminds him very much of Nyota's enthusiasm for her thesis.

He quickly pulls his thoughts away from that association. Now is not the time to be dwelling on Nyota.

He shares another pleasant dinner with T'Pring, and returns to her home afterward. As they sit together listening to and discussing a recording of a Mozart symphony, Spock once again finds his thoughts drifting to Nyota. His memory of her touch lingers in his mind, and again he feels his longings to return that touch.

He should not be thinking such things. It is T'Pring who should be the object of his longings. She is the one to whom he is bound.

T'Pring sits near him on the low, hard sofa. Impulsively he extends his hand and gently strokes the back of her wrist with his first and second fingers, mimicking the gestures of affection he has so often seen exchanged between his parents.

She ceases speaking mid-sentence, and stares at him. In her moment of surprise she looks more visually appealing than she has ever looked before. Spock leans forward, and presses his lips against hers.

The kiss is brief, and T'Pring remains frozen and impassive throughout. When he pulls back, she continues to stare at him.

After a moment, she asks him, "Are you entering your pon farr cycle?"

Spock blinks in surprise. "No. I merely…" This is not the reaction he expected, though he sees how her inference was logical. "Human couples frequently engage in such acts of physical affection to reaffirm their bonds with one another."

T'Pring's face remains as impassive as ever. "I am not Human, and I have no desire to emulate Human behavior."

Spock grits his teeth against the sudden sting that hurts worse than a physical blow. He quickly runs through a warp acceleration calculation to distract him from the unwanted emotional reaction, and rises to his feet. "Of course. I should never have presumed. You have my apologies."

"Your apology is accepted. Spock--I believe we must discuss the future of our bond. Please be seated."

Though he desires nothing more than to leave her presence, for the first time he sees a faint glimmer of empathy in her eyes. He returns to his seat.

"It occurs to me," she says, "that your Human heritage has done more to shape your character than I ever suspected. Perhaps your character is better suited to taking a Human mate than a Vulcan mate. Have you ever pondered such an option?"

He looks down at his hands, resting tensely on his knees. "I confess that I have. One of my objects in coming to see you this week was to gather data to make a final decision regarding the suitability of our bond."

"It would have been helpful if you had informed me of your object from the beginning."

"Yes. It would have been. I apologize."

"Have you ever spent time experimenting with Human relationships to help you determine whether or not such a relationship would better suit your character?"

He looks up to meet her eyes. She wears the same expression of scientific curiosity that graced her face during their tour of her research station.

"I have not," he admits. "I felt that such an exploration would be disloyal to our bond."

T'Pring's lips narrow. "You have now spent more than a year exploring your relationship with me. Yet you have no basis for comparison. It would be illogical to make a final decision without a more complete analysis. I give you permission to explore Human romantic relationships. You may take as long as necessary to gather your data. Once you are ready, you may contact me to discuss the results of your experimentation, and together we can make the determination whether or not to terminate our bond."

Spock's eyes widen. He sees now how very little he truly understands T'Pring--he never would have expected her to make such a proposition. "Your suggestion has many merits. Thank you for granting me permission to proceed with such experimentation. And if I conclude that I am, in fact, better suited for a Human mate, what then?"

"Then I will willingly agree to the termination of our bond. There is no logical purpose in restraining you within a relationship that is unsuitable for you."

Spock thanks T'Pring again, and leaves her home with a new feeling of lightness and freedom. When he arrives at his parents' home, he sees by the light in his mother's study that she is still awake. However, he chooses to make his way back to his room quickly rather than stopping to speak with her.

He has much to ponder before he can discuss this new development with her.

As he sits on a bench in his room and prepares for meditation, Nyota's face floats to the surface of his mind. He has been repressing thoughts of her ever since his conversation with T'Pring, but he cannot deny that there is no other Human woman with whom he would rather attempt a romantic relationship than Nyota.

But it is an impossibility.

Both her relationship with Cedric and her status as a cadet stand as barriers between them. In this instance, he must find a way to overcome his desires and pursue alternate possibilities.

If he is to experiment with Human relationships, it cannot be with Nyota.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: **Again, thank you all so much for your reviews. Your words mean a lot to me. And thanks as ever to my beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter Five

_Spock's Academy roommate, Chin-Hwa, was an ideal roommate and friend for their first year of study. Then, he decided to start dating._

_Chin-Hwa was by no means a prolific dater. He went out with only three girls over the course of the first semester of their second year. But a disproportionate amount of his time and mental energy seemed to be allocated to the women that sparked his interest._

_Spock watched with grave concern as his friend's grades began to suffer, the tidiness of his personal area declined, and his nutritional habits worsened. He could not fathom why Humans would choose to inflict such an obviously upsetting and harmful process on themselves for the sake of finding a mate. Even more puzzling was the fact that for most Humans the process of "dating" seemed to drag on for years--or even decades--before they finally chose either a mate or solitude._

_In the second semester of the year, Chin-Hwa claimed to have "fallen in love" with an operations track cadet named June._

_Chin-Hwa's academic and personal habits experienced another decline as an even larger portion of his mental focus was shifted to entertaining, pleasing, and thinking about June. Spock took it upon himself to work up a study and exercise schedule for his friend, and saw to it that Chin-Hwa followed the schedule as closely as possible. He was determined not to allow his friend's strange new obsession with June ruin the possibility of obtaining his posting of choice following graduation._

_Chin-Hwa's relationship with June continued via subspace communication over the summer months while they both served internships in remote locations. Spock was frustrated to find his friend as obsessed as ever when they returned to the Academy in the fall._

_The worst moment, however, came in October when June broke up with Chin-Hwa in favor of a fourth year command track cadet. Spock felt obligated to accompany his friend to a bar to listen to his self-pitying complaints and watch as he consumed excessive amounts of alcohol. Eventually, Spock managed to coax Chin-Hwa away from the bar and back to their dorm, where Chin-Hwa spent two hours in the bathroom vomiting and moaning._

_Spock could not fathom any relationship being worth that amount of self-inflicted suffering. _

_For weeks Chin-Hwa sank into a deep depression. He barely ate, slept fitfully, and his studies suffered very much._

_Spock did what he could to aid his friend, but the causes of Chin-Hwa's distress were incomprehensible to him. He could not understand how, in less than a year, Chin-Hwa's emotional well-being had become so utterly dependent on his relationship with June when previously he had been a confident and self-directed man. _

_By the end of November, Chin-Hwa was almost himself again. Spock helped him catch up with his coursework, and aided him in studying for his exams. _

_As time passed Spock continued to expect Chin-Hwa to return to being the same as he had been before meeting June; eventually, however, Spock could not deny the fact that Chin-Hwa had been fundamentally and permanently changed by his relationship with June._

_It troubled Spock that romantic relationships--even failed relationships--could have such profound effects on Human beings. He disliked the thought of surrendering so much of his identity to another person that he would be permanently altered in the process, and quietly decided that he would avoid such relationships whenever possible. He did not want to be changed as Chin-Hwa had been changed._

_Chin-Hwa had no more serious relationships during his time at the Academy. Spock was pleased. He did not want to see his friend suffer again. _

***

"Wow." Nyota's eyes are wide. "She really suggested you date Human women? That's…unexpected."

Spock nods, swallowing his bite of lentil soup and balancing his spoon neatly on the edge of his bowl. "It was unexpected, but very welcome. It seems the ideal solution to my dilemma. This is the best way for me to determine whether or not a Human romance is better suited to my character than my Vulcan bonding."

"Wow." Nyota repeats, pushing her salad around her plate with her fork. Spock is pleased that she was able to join him at the restaurant for lunch today, as he has much to discuss. But her reaction to his news is confusing.

Finally, she smiles. "Well, I'm glad for you. It's good that you have all your doubts out in the open with T'Pring, and that she's offered you this rather…novel solution to your dilemma." She nudges a tomato with her fork, but makes no attempt to consume any of her food. "Do you have anyone in mind, yet? For dating?"

He shakes his head. "No. I would gladly have pursued this experiment with some of my friends my days as a cadet, but they are all serving assignments away from Earth. Most of the unattached women of my acquaintance on Earth are colleagues, and I do not wish to risk damaging any professional relationships during the course of my romantic experimentation. And, of course, pursuing any relationship with a cadet would violate the Academy Code of Conduct."

His eyes rest on her face, studying her reaction.

When Spock related the details of his agreement with T'Pring to his mother, she had immediately suggested he try dating his friend Nyota. Though he had already dismissed the idea of attempting such a relationship with Nyota, his mother's enthusiastic endorsement of such a course of action had led him to reconsider. During his return voyage from Vulcan, he pondered whether or not he would be willing to violate the Academy Code of Conduct if Nyota expressed willingness to engage in a relationship with him. At length he concluded that it would be illogical to risk such an infraction when, in all likelihood, he and Nyota would be serving together on the Enterprise in little more than a year. He could be patient and attempt to establish a romantic relationship with her once no more impediments--in the form of anti-fraternization rules or musician boyfriends--stood in their way.

In the meantime, he could experiment by spending time with a wider variety of Human women (although he was already inclined to think that none of them would be as appealing as Nyota).

"Yes." Her eyes dart away from his as she looks back down at her salad. "Of course. That would be inappropriate. It wouldn't be worth risking your career just to try dating someone. Especially when you aren't sure whether or not it'll work out." She looks back up, and holds his gaze. Her expression is somber.

He wonders if she perceives his desire to deepen his relationship with her. If she does, then her message to him is clear--their careers must come first. Unless, Spock wonders, she wishes for him to challenge her assertion?

He pushes aside that line of speculation. He will take her words at face value. That is the only logical course of action.

"That is correct," he replies.

He takes another spoonful of his soup, and she continues to poke at her salad. After a few moments, he speaks again. "I have downloaded several books on Human mating rituals. One is an anthropological text written by a Vulcan author. I have nearly finished the book, and it has been very helpful in providing me with a comparative framework for understand the nature and patterns of Human courtship in contrast to Vulcan traditions. The other books are all written as tomes of advice for Humans seeking new relationships, or attempting to improve existing relationships. I have finished several of them already. I found them…fascinating."

The corners of Nyota's mouth tick upward. "You're reading relationship self-help books?"

"It seemed a logical way to gain a deeper understanding of Human behavior and expectations before attempt to engage in romantic relationships myself. The emphasis on emotional imperatives is troubling, but I hope to be able to adapt my behaviors suitably to accommodate Human needs."

She smile broadens. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. You've always done a good job of accommodating my emotional imperatives. In our friendship, I mean." She finally takes a bite of her salad.

"I am pleased to hear it." He studies her face again. There have been several times in the past when he desired to enter into a mind meld with Nyota, so that he might finally know the mysterious thoughts that occupy her mind. Today he desires that knowledge more than ever before. But it is a selfish, emotional desire--one that he must resist.

"So if you're not going to date colleagues or students," she asks, "who are you going to date?"

He has given this question much thought, and is prepared with an answer. "Captain Pike once offered to _fix me up_ with a suitable companion. I declined his offer at the time, but I intend to ask him if he is still willing to assist me in this matter."

Nyota snorts softly while attempting to hold back laughter. "You're going to start off this experiment of yours by going on blind dates?"

Her lack of support for his plan is troubling. "It seems a logical course of action. Do you have an alternative to suggest?"

She shakes her head. "No, I guess I don't. I mean, I really can't picture you trying to pick women up at bars. And if you aren't willing to date women from work, you don't have many other options. I guess you'll just have to hope that Captain Pike has good taste."

They both turn their attention to their food for several minutes, and eventually the conversation drifts to talk of their plans for the summer break. Spock was already aware that Nyota will be working full-time as the student supervisor of the long range sensor lab. Now he learns that she has added something new to her summer plans.

"I finally found a Klingon who's willing to meet with me and act as a consultant on my thesis. He's an old acquaintance of Commander Ford. A freighter captain who dabbles in the social sciences as a hobby. Apparently that's the only kind of social scientist there is in the Klingon Empire."

"This is excellent news," replies Spock. "Your thesis would not be complete without the input of a native Klingon speaker. I applaud your success in finding him."

"Yeah, well, the downside is I'll have to arrange to leave my job in the long range sensor lab early. This freighter captain wants to meet in person on Denobula at the end of the summer. I already have leads on a few Federation freighters that might be able to give me passage. But it's five days there and five days back. And from the look of the freighter schedules, I'll probably only be able to meet with the captain for two or three days." She sighs. "It'll be a long, dull trip sandwiched around a few days of crazy work. But I'll do what I have to do."

Spock raises an eyebrow. "Are you certain this venture will be entire safe? Denobula is generally a peaceful world, but it is not without its dangers--particularly in the interstellar spaceport. And even Federation freighters are known to run into danger from time to time. Is there no safer method of meeting with your consultant?"

Her lips tighten. "I can take care of myself, Spock. You don't need to be so protective of me."

"I did not intend to imply that you are incapable of defending yourself--"

"Didn't you?" Her eyebrow arches, and her eyes sparkle with a challenging look.

Spock's protest dies on his lips. He cannot deny that her news of a trip off-world elicited a protective response in him. "I apologize," he says finally.

"Apology accepted." She smiles again. "Besides," she adds, "I won't be entirely unprotected. Gaila's already insisted on coming with me. And she has expert-level training in personal combat techniques. I'm going to have her give me a few lessons on that long dull voyage of ours. I think we'll be ready to handle ourselves."

He nods. "It seems that you will."

***

Captain Pike almost drops his chess piece in surprise when Spock relays his request for dating assistance. He stares at Spock, his mouth hanging open, before finally responding. "Is this a prank?"

Spock's brows knit. This is hardly an ideal response. "I am making an earnest request for assistance. I have a limited understanding of Human pranks, and I do not see how my request could be construed in this way."

Pike continues to toy with his piece, and seems to be wholly distracted from the game. "So it's not a prank. You really want to try dating Human women?"

"I do." Spock nods.

A slow grin spreads across Pike's face, deepening his laugh-lines. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this for you."

Spock raises an eyebrow. "I suspect that you've wanted to arrange a date for me for the past four years, five months, and one week. That is how much time has passed since you first attempted to fix me up with Ensign Lysenko."

Pike glares at him. "Fine. So you do know how long I've wanted to this." His raises his finger to point at Spock. "And I still think you should have gone for her. She really, _really_ liked you."

"At that time I was not at liberty to pursue a romantic relationship."

"What do you mean you weren't at liberty? It's not like you were dating anyone else."

"No. However, I felt that pursuing a relationship with a Human woman would constitute a betrayal of my commitment to my fiancée."

Pike sets his chess piece down hard on the table, his mouth hanging open again. "Fiancée? Okay. Now you have some explaining to do."

Clearly pursuing the chess game at this juncture would be fruitless. Spock chooses instead to explain his complicated relationship with T'Pring to Captain Pike, and explains his new arrangement with her regarding Human romance.

A low whistle escapes from Pike's lips. "You are one lucky son of a bitch."

Spock fails to see how his difficulties managing his relationship with T'Pring make him lucky, and he says as much.

Pike closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. "Yes. I wasn't clear. Of course it's not a good thing that you've had a hard time working things out with your fiancée. What I meant to imply, is that lots of Human men would envy your position of having a fiancée who encourages you to date other women. In my experience, Humans are not entirely monogamous by nature."

"Yet," says Spock, raising an eyebrow, "the most prevalent Human marriage pattern is monogamy."

"It's tradition," replies Pike with a shrug. "Plus, most Humans are also hypocrites by nature. They claim to be monogamous yet behave otherwise."

"Fascinating." Spock's eyebrow ticks up. "However, I would prefer not to be fixed up with women already involved with other men."

Pike grins. "I'll be careful. Any other requirements?"

Spock reiterates his desire to avoid dating colleagues and cadets, states that he has no preference whether or not the women are members of Starfleet, but adds a request that they be within ten years of his age and be made aware that he is not seeking a long-term relationship.

"I think I can manage that."

"Do you have any ideas for women suitable for my experiment?"

Pike leans back in his chair. "I have a few ideas, but I'm going to need a week or two to get something arranged for you."

"I am in no hurry. Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

"You're welcome." Pike smiles and laughs. "Frankly, I can't wait to see what happens."

***

Spock's first arranged date occurs in late May, one week before the end of the semester. His date's name is Deidre Jarrah. She is a civilian administrator at the Starfleet Propulsion Technologies Laboratory with whom Captain Pike became acquainted during the outfitting of the _Enterprise._

At Nyota's suggestion, Spock takes Deidre to dinner at a piano bar. Nyota said it would be quiet enough for conversation, but still provide enough entertainment to fill up any awkward pauses.

Unfortunately, the entire evening seems to be composed of awkward pauses.

They meet at the bar and exchange brief introductions. After being seated at a table they have another brief discussion of the menu, followed by an only slightly longer discussion of their careers. The remainder of their time together is composed of eating, listening to the performer, and jumping from one attempt at further conversation to another with little success.

At the conclusion of their meal, Deidre shows no inclination to continue their evening together, and Spock is in complete agreement. He walks her out of the bar, and, following the advice from one of the Human relationship books he read, he bids her goodnight by thanking her for her company and wishing her well in all her future endeavors. She seems relieved that he makes no attempt to arrange a second date.

The next day Pike tells him, "I'm sorry things didn't work out with Deidre. I wasn't too sure about her in the first place, but she was the first one I could convince to give you a try. For some reason lots of women are hesitant to date a man who's scheduled to leave on a Starship in a year. I've been running into the same problem myself. But don't worry--I've got two more women who I think will go for it."

Spock nodded, but found himself discouraged. Clearly his experiment in Human relationships is going to be lengthier and less agreeable than he has imagined.

***

Spock's second date, on the first weekend of the summer break, is very nearly as disagreeable as his time with Deidre.

Both Pike and Nyota reassure him that he needs to be patient and not get discouraged. Pike tells him that most Humans have dozens of mediocre and bad dates in between the good ones. Spock is beginning to think that dating is a highly inefficient method of selecting a mate. The Vulcan practice of turning to friends and family for assistance in selecting and screening potential matches now looks highly practical in contrast.

On the second weekend of the summer, Spock has a welcome respite from his dating experiment as he attends a chess tournament in Vancouver. He easily advances in all the early rounds on Saturday, and finally faces his first challenging opponent Saturday evening.

After a well-fought match, he emerges victorious and advances to the quarter-finals on Sunday.

His quarter-final opponent puts up a strong showing, but Spock succeeds in advancing to the semi-final. Here, Spock faces his most difficult opponent yet--an unhealthily thin teenage girl of Chinese descent. Her skills are laudable, but Spock believes he can surpass her.

For this match the sit on a slightly elevated dais, a large vid-screen over their heads projecting several different views of their board to the audience seated in dozens of rows of aging plastic chairs.

After one of his moves, Spock glances out at the audience. He feels a sudden lurch in his stomach as he catches sight of a familiar face. Nyota is in the audience, sitting three rows back.

She locks gazes with him, and raises her hand in a tiny wave.

He nods back before returning his gaze to the chess board. It takes him nearly nine seconds to pinpoint where his opponent has played her piece.

His new level of distraction continues to hamper him throughout the match. He is unable to successfully suppress his questions regarding Nyota's unexpected appearance.

Eventually, his opponent gets the better of him, and wins the match. He stands and congratulates her politely before excusing himself to find Nyota.

She is waiting for him at the back of the room. She smiles as he approaches. "Surprised to see me?"

"Very," he replies. "What prompted you to come here?"

"The symphony started its summer concert series this weekend, so Cedric is swamped. And I really needed a break from my thesis, so I thought I'd come cheer you on. I'm sorry you didn't win."

Spock is pleased that his friend chose to spend her free time supporting him at his competition when she could have engaged in many more relaxing pursuits. He thanks her for coming, and says, "Do not concern yourself about my loss. She was a worthy opponent. I have lost tournaments before, and will doubtless lose them again in the future. It is of no consequence. Do you wish to stay and watch the final match?"

"I'd love to." Her grin is more gratifying than a winner's trophy ever has been.

During the final match Spock quietly offers commentary on the game and the strategies employed. Nyota does not play, and is unfamiliar with many of the intricacies of three-dimensional chess.

In the end, the thin teenage girl who bested Spock wins the tournament. Spock is somewhat relieved that it was her skill and not merely his distraction that led to his defeat.

Spock and Nyota share a late lunch at a Vancouver restaurant before transporting back to the Academy.

"I'm not busy for the rest of the day," says Nyota as the leave the transporter station. "Maybe we could go back to your apartment and you could teach me how to play chess?"

The edges of Spock's lips curve upward. "I would be pleased to instruct you."

They spend the entire afternoon playing. Nyota is a quick learner. When night falls Spock prepares them both a simple vegetable-noodle soup for dinner. They listen to soft jazz and converse while they eat. Today has been the most enjoyable day he has experienced in a very long time. It is unfortunate that neither of his dates thus far have been even half so pleasant. For a moment, he is tempted to reconsider his decision to wait until Nyota's graduation before pursuing her romantically.

But a hard reminder of the reasoning behind his original decision comes when she excuses herself--she has agreed to meet Cedric downtown after his performance this evening.

Spock bids her farewell and retires to his room for his nightly meditation, attempting to staunch his disappointment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's notes: **Always much thanks to my beta reader, MrsTater. And always much thanks to you, my readers. You're wonderful comments always make my day.

Chapter 6

_In the first semester of Spock's final year at Starfleet Academy, his friend Ramón came to him with an unusual request--he wanted Spock to accompany him on a double date._

_"Please, man. This would be a huge favor," Ramón pleaded._

_"Why are you in need of my presence for this date?" Spock had made his disinterest in dating clear to his friends years ago, and was annoyed that Ramón would ignore Spock's preferences._

_"Because it's Trisha Jennings, Spock. Trisha Jennings!" Ramón gestured emphatically in the air. "I've been hot for Trisha since our first year. And she finally said she would go out with me, but only if I find someone to go out with her friend."_

_Spock raised his eyebrow. "Why me?"_

_"No one else can go. I mean no one." Ramón's face was gravely serious. "Believe me, you were my last choice--I know you're not into this sort of thing. But I really, _really_, need this favor."_

_Spock gritted his teeth. Joining Ramón on a double date was the last thing he wanted to do, but Ramón had been a good friend to him over the years and Spock felt obligated to provide assistance. He grudgingly consented to the venture._

_Ramón clapped his hands together. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you. I owe you big time."_

_Two nights later Spock and Ramón met their dates at a popular café. Ramón seemed ecstatic to see Trisha, however she seemed less enthusiastic to see him, and even less so to see Spock. He was uncertain as to why Trisha would be so frustrated to have a non-Human join their party--after all, her friend, and Spock's date, was also non-Human. Krystakkar was a blue-skinned Andorian cadet._

_Ramón remained animated and enthusiastic throughout their date, apparently oblivious to Trisha's seeming indifference. Krystakkar was subdued, but pleasant._

_After their meal the four of them went walking in a nearby outdoor entertainment district. Ramón not-so-subtly gestured for Spock to hang back with Krystakkar so that he could have some private conversation with Trisha._

_Spock complied. Talking with Krystakkar was preferable to watching his friend's continued obliviousness._

_As Spock and Krystakkar fell further behind Trisha and Ramón, Krystakkar smiled and spoke. "Trisha's not too happy that Ramón brought you along."_

_"I suspected as much, though I cannot fathom why."_

_Krystakkar chuckled softly to herself. "You foiled her clever plan. She's been trying to get me to 'sample the local cuisine' since we met two years ago."_

_Spock raised an eyebrow in query. _

_Krystakkar replied, "She wants me to try dating Human men. I finally got tired of her pestering, and told her that if she found someone suitable I would give it a try. The only reason she agreed to go out with Ramón in the first place is because she thinks that all of Ramón's friends are safe, intelligent, and respectful. She thought that one of them would be a good way of breaking me into the world of Human dating."_

_"Now I understand her disappointment. She was expecting a Human to be your date."_

_Krystakkar chuckled again. "Exactly." She shook her head. "I know interspecies romances aren't unheard of, but I've never been interested in pursuing one. Perhaps that makes me more conservative than Trisha would prefer, but it suits me just fine. How about you?" She held his gaze. _

_"I come from a somewhat unique perspective," replied Spock, "for I am the product of an interspecies romance. My mother is Human."_

_"Fascinating." Krystakkar's antennae swiveled toward him. _

_Spock continues. "My mother chose to largely adopt Vulcan culture as her own, and to raise me as a Vulcan. If she had not, I am certain my parents' marriage would have been much more difficult."_

_"Do you even think it's possible to have a more balanced cultural synthesis in an interspecies relationship?" asks Krystakkar. "Or do you think one partner will inevitably have to adopt the culture of the other?"_

_"I am uncertain." Spock shakes his head. "I do believe that it would be difficult. But achieving a cultural balance is theoretically possible."_

_"Well, I don't want to be the one to test that theory." After walking for another few moments, Krystakkar adds, "I didn't realize that Humans and Vulcans were genetically compatible."_

_"They aren't." Spock rarely spoke of his family to his friends, yet, somehow, it was easy speaking to a fellow non-Human about his origin. "However, our genetics are sufficiently similar that fertility and genetic scientists were able to alter my mother's ovum to be receptive to fertilization by Vulcan sperm. Further genetic alterations were necessary while I was yet an embryo."_

_Krystakkar's eyes were wide. She was a biology major, and her interest was clearly piqued. "Remarkable. Were any papers published on the process?"_

_Spock nodded and listed the authors of the papers for her so that she could look them up later._

_"Have any further attempts at Vulcan/Human hybridization been made since your birth?" she asked._

_"Yes. Two other interspecies couples have made attempts--one unsuccessful, one successful."_

_Spock and Krystakkar continued their conversation on interspecies reproduction for the remainder of the evening. _

_They met for several more meals and scientific discussions over the course of their senior year, but, unfortunately for Ramón, Trisha never went out with him again. _

***

"This is the one. I know it," says Pike over lunch, as he informs Spock of his next date. "Commander Janice Turner. She became my first officer not long after you left the _Exeter._ She came to Earth five months ago to work at Starfleet Command. She's gunning for her own command once all the new Starships come online. She's ambitious, intelligent, creative, witty, good-looking. She's perfect for you."

Commander Turner certainly sounds like a more promising prospect than Spock's first two dates, so he readily agrees to meet her.

As Spock finishes his lunch and prepares to leave the cafeteria, Pike stops him. "There's one more thing I ought to tell you before you meet her." He leans back in his chair and drums his fingers on the table.

"Yes?" Spock waits patiently for Pike's response.

Pike leans forward. "This isn't the setting I'd planned on to share this news with you. I was going to take you out to dinner someplace nice with a few friends and make an occasion of it, but I kind of had to break the news to Turner in order to convince her to go out with you. She didn't seem to think a computer programmer and part-time teacher was good enough for her, so I had to tell her about your new job." Pike grins.

"What job?" Spock is fairly certain that he knows the answer, though he is surprised Pike made his decision so far in advance of the _Enterprise_'s departure.

"The job of first officer of the new Starfleet flagship." Pike's grin grows even broader. "Congratulations, Commander." He extends his hand across the table, and for once Spock feels no hesitation to reciprocate the gesture and join Pike in a firm handshake.

This is the goal he has worked toward for most of his Starfleet career, and Spock feels a swell of very non-Vulcan pride and happiness which he has no inclination to suppress.

***

This time, Pike's assurances of compatibility are not exaggerated. Once again Spock meets his date at the piano bar.

However, unlike his previous dates, their dinner is dominated by lively conversation rather than unpleasant silences. Janice and Spock both come from technological backgrounds, but both aspire to command positions.

The share many comparisons of their time aboard the _Exeter_, discuss Starfleet internal politics, theorize about the future of interstellar exploration, and share a common taste for south-Asian food.

Though both of Spock's previous dates ended in less than two hours, he is almost surprised when he realizes that more than three hours have passed.

Janice pushes her light brown hair back from her face and arches an eyebrow. "You want to get out of here?" she asks.

"I am open to a change of venue," he replies.

They leave the bar and take a long stroll in the warm summer night. The conversation rarely lags, and Spock decides that her company is as pleasant as that of nearly all his other friends.

Eventually she leads him to a small diner. "This is my favorite place near campus," she says. "I discovered it three months after I started at the Academy and I came here at least once a week the whole time I was there."

She orders a slice of apple pie ala mode. Spock orders a small caramel sundae.

"Vulcans like ice cream?" Janice seemed surprised.

Spock swallows his bite of the cool creamy substance and replies. "You forget that I am half Human. I inherited some of my mother's tastes for Earth desserts."

"Hmmm." Janice sucks the ice cream off her own spoon. "Now I'm curious what other Human traits you may have inherited."

"You may have the chance to find out. Would you be interested in scheduling a second date?"

Janice eyes him thoughtfully. "You know, when Chris first asked me to go out with his Vulcan friend I thought he was pulling my leg. But you're not like other Vulcans, are you?" She does not wait for a reply. "What the hell. I had a good time tonight--might as well give it another try. Sure. Let's do it."

Spock is pleased. His experiment is finally making progress.

***

Spock's second date with Janice goes as well as the first, and soon they arrange for a third. For this outing Janice invites Spock to accompany her to a formal reception for some visiting dignitaries at Starfleet Headquarters.

Many officers of Spock's acquaintance are present at the reception, including Captain Pike, who spends a few private moments with Spock gloating over his success in fixing him up with Janice while ignoring the two failed attempts previous.

Commodore Ripley, the head of the xenolinguistics department at Starfleet Academy, is also present. She takes several moments to converse with Spock and Janice.

In all, the evening is another success, and a fourth date is agreed upon.

Several days later, Commodore Ripley pulls Spock aside after the conclusion of a staff meeting.

"I just wanted to tell you how pleased I was to see you out with Commander Turner," she says. "I understand you've been seeing a lot of each other, lately?"

Spock nods, uncertain why his commanding officer is suddenly showing so much interest in his personal life. "We have."

"Excellent news, Commander." She hesitates a moment. "You see, earlier this year I got wind of some rather disturbing rumors circulating about you and your teaching assistant."

Spock's jaw clenches at the unpleasant reminder of the malicious gossip that so upset him several months ago.

Commodore Ripley continues. "I didn't want to give the rumors any credence, because you're you, and I trust you. But they were disturbing nonetheless."

"I understand." Spock straightens his spine even more than usual. "It is your duty to ensure that your staff does not violate any rules or regulations"

"And it's my duty to see that none of my students are mistreated or taken advantage of," she adds with a firm glint in her eye. "Which is why I'm so pleased to see you taking up with Janice Turner. This finally puts all those rumors to rest."

"I assure you, Commodore, the rumors were never more than just that--rumors. There was no substance behind them."

"I believe you, Spock. But I feel urged to warn you to take greater care with your personal life. I know you and Cadet Uhura are friends, and that you socialize outside of work hours. I also know that as a Vulcan you see no logical reason why you should not spend your time with friends whose company you enjoy, regardless of your relative ranks and positions. However, here on Earth, among Humans, your acts of friendship could

be--and clearly have been--easily misinterpreted. Let me urge you to exercise greater caution regarding your social behavior in the future."

His jaw clenches again. He feels a roiling knot of anger growing within him, tinged with a sensation of guilt. Though he has never violated the Academy Code of Conduct in fact, he cannot deny that he has desired to break it on many occasions. "I see no reason why my behavior should be dictated by unprofessional and distasteful gossip."

"Logically, it shouldn't be. But you're not living on a logical world. Please take my warning as what it is--advice from a friend."

Spock nods, and thanks the Commodore for her advice. But the knot of anger within him does not subside for several hours.

***

With Cedric occupied by the ongoing summer concert series at the symphony and most of Nyota's friends away on internships for the summer months, she has begun spending more of her free time with Spock. In spite of Commodore Ripley's advice, he chooses to spend as much time as possible in the company of his best friend. He is doing nothing wrong, and inwardly resolves to continue to follow the dictates of his own conscience rather than pandering to whims of malicious gossipers.

Tonight, he and Nyota are playing chess.

"So," says Nyota, moving one of her knights in what Spock knows is an amateur mistake, "tomorrow's your fourth date with Commander Turner. Things must be getting pretty serious."

Spock's lips tighten as he moves a piece in a weak strategy intended to soften the blow of Nyota's inevitable defeat. "I continue to enjoy her company, yes. I am uncertain how Humans would apply the word _serious_, but I am not sufficiently invested in the relationship to end my betrothal with T'Pring."

"Huh." Nyota frowns, studying the tiers of the playing board carefully. "So you see this more as summer fling than a long-term relationship?"

"I do." Spock watches as Nyota moves her queen--a somewhat stronger strategy than her previous move.

"What about Commander Turner?"

Spock shifts another of his pieces. "I assume she understands the short-term nature of our relationship. I asked Captain Pike to make it clear that I am uninterested in a lengthy relationship at this time, and I assume he complied with my request. Janice has given no indication that she has long-term expectations."

Nyota nods, studying the board again. "That's for the best. It's good to know right from the start what kind of relationship you're getting into."

Spock detects a note of frustration in her voice, and chooses to probe deeper. "And your relationship with Cedric--are you, as you put it, serious?"

"Not as serious as he wants to be." Nyota moves one of her few remaining pawns. "He keeps pushing me for a longer-term commitment, but he knew from the start I'd be requesting a fleet assignment. I don't know. Maybe I wasn't clear enough."

This is the first Spock has heard of any troubles in Nyota's relationship. It is unfortunate that she is not as happy as she once was, but Spock can not help but feel a surge of satisfaction that it is increasingly unlikely her relationship with Cedric will outlast her senior year. "Or perhaps he is allowing his emotions to cloud his reasoning."

"Probably." She nods.

"On a related topic," Spock says, "I believe I have reached the stage of my relationship with Janice where preliminary physical intimacies are expected, but I am unsure of how to go about introducing such intimacies into our interactions."

Nyota nibbles lightly on her bottom lip as she shifts her queen again. "What do you mean by _preliminary physical intimacies_?"

"Acts such as holding hands, embracing, and kissing."

Her eyes widen. "You're going on your fourth date and you haven't kissed her yet?"

"No." Spock ignores the board and focuses his attention entirely on Nyota. "Have I been remiss in my duties as a relationship partner?"

She looks away from his gaze, appearing slightly embarrassed. "Well--given your cultural heritage I'm sure she was expecting things to go slower than they would with a Human man. But, yeah. She's probably getting a little impatient by now."

He raises an eyebrow. "In your experience, when do such preliminary intimacies normally commence?"

"Usually by the second date. Sometimes even on the first date, if things go really well."

"Then I have been remiss, indeed. I shall have to rectify the situation."

"You don't have to rush into anything you're not comfortable with. I'm sure Janice wouldn't expect that of you." Nyota looks unexpectedly concerned.

"I understand. However, if I am to accurately judge the suitability of Human romances for my character, it is imperative that I engage in the whole range of experiences typical to such relationships." Though the chess board still sits between them, it has largely been forgotten.

"The whole range? Even--" Her voice lowers. "--sex?"

Spock takes a deep breath. This is a question he has often pondered since the beginning of his experiment. "I am unsure. I was trained from a young age that sexual relations are only appropriate and acceptable within marriage. However, this is not the typical pattern for Human relationships, and I am willing to consider acting against my upbringing. But I believe that I will have to be engaged in a relationship of lengthy duration and significant personal meaning before I will be willing to proceed with acts of sexual intimacy."

Nyota seems tense throughout his response, though he cannot fathom why. "So you don't think you'll get that far with Janice?"

"I cannot say for certain. Our relationship is still too new for me to consider it."

Nyota takes a deep breath. "Can I offer you some advice?"

"Certainly. Your experience in such matters exceeds mine, and I would appreciate your counsel."

"Okay." She nods. Her eyes meet his. "Some people--including many Humans--are capable of enjoying sex as casual recreation. To them it's no more serious than a vid or a concert. It's just another form of entertainment. But for others, especially people like you, with more conservative upbringings, sex is very serious business. It changes things. It can permanently impact your self-image and emotional well-being. It can elevate your bond with your partner in ways you never could have imagined. But it can also make the pain so much worse if your relationship dissolves. I just want to warn you to be careful. I'd hate to see you rush into something and get hurt in the process."

Her expression is deeply earnest, and Spock feels a sudden emotional lurch that he is unsure how to characterize. "Thank you, Nyota. I am grateful for your advice and your concern. I am very fortunate to have a friend like you."

A soft smile spreads on her face. "You're welcome. I feel pretty lucky to have you, too."

Spock parts his lips in hesitation before proceeding with his question. "You described two extremes of Human attitudes toward sexuality. Surely these extremes do not encompass all of Humanity. Do you fit into either of those extremes?"

Still smiling, she shakes her head. "No. I would guess that most of us fall somewhere in the middle. I don't use sex as casual recreation. I'm a pretty firm monogamist. I won't have sex unless I'm in a committed relationship. But the commitment doesn't have to be serious or lasting. I don't have to be in love to have sex. I think there's a pretty large contingent of Humans that feel pretty much the same way."

The thought of Nyota engaging in sexual acts with other men--especially with Cedric--stirs up intense feelings of jealousy in Spock. He strives to restrain them. He has no claims on Nyota and no rights to restrict her sexual activities. It is childish and selfish of him to think otherwise.

"This conversation has been most enlightening," he says. "Thank you for your openness."

"I'm glad I could help. If you ever have questions or just need to talk, I'm here for you."

"Thank you."

"Now," Nyota places her hands on the table, "I think it was your move?"

They continue to play for another ten minutes before Spock finally defeats her. A moment later his door chime sounds.

"Enter," he calls.

The door swooshes open, and Janice Turner steps across his threshold.

Spock and Nyota both rise to their feet.

"Hello, Janice," says Spock. "This is unexpected."

"Yeah. I was at a late meeting over at the Admin building, and I thought I'd drop by and see if you'd care to join me for dessert." Janice is smiling, but there seems a hint of wariness in her tone as she eyes Nyota. "But I see you already have company."

"Not at all, Commander Turner," says Nyota. "We've just finished our game, and I was getting ready to leave."

"You have me at a disadvantage," says Janice, taking another step toward them.

"Please," says Spock, "allow me to introduce you to my friend, Cadet Uhura."

Janice seems to relax. "Ah, the teaching assistant." She steps forward to shake Nyota's hand. "Spock's told me all about you."

"All good things, I hope?" Nyota smiles broadly, but Spock perceives an uncharacteristic stiffness in her stance and expression.

"Naturally," replies Janice. "Spock wouldn't have anyone but the best as his assistant. From what I understand you have a very bright future ahead of you."

"Thank you, Commander."

Nyota excuses herself, and after a few minutes of conversation Spock accompanies Janice to her favorite diner for dessert. As they eat, she asks, "So, do you socialize with Cadet Uhura often?"

"Yes. We are good friends, and socialize together several times a weeks. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," replies Janice, her eyes fixed on her pie.

***

The next night, after their date, Spock accompanies Janice back to her apartment. He comes inside and they converse for another twenty-six minutes before he excuses himself for the night.

She walks him to her door, a warm smile on her face. It seems the opportune moment to initiate one of the preliminary intimacies that Spock discussed with Nyota.

He steps a pace closer to Janice. She smiles up at him, a look of anticipation on her face.

He leans forward, and presses his lips against hers.

Her skin is cool and soft, and her lips taste faintly of blueberries. She leans into him, placing her hands on his shoulders and parting her lips, moving them slowly against his.

He attempts to mimic her actions with his own lips, but feels a great deal of uncertainty regarding his performance.

Janice leans into him again, and their top teeth suddenly knock against each other.

Spock pulls back. Janice smiles up at him, but there is a faint air of dissatisfaction about her.

"I apologize. My experience with such interactions is very limited."

Her smile thins into a wry curve. "I figured as much. Don't worry--it was a pretty good start, and you'll only get better with practice."

Spock bids her goodnight, and returns home with the plan to find and view vids featuring Human kissing. He wants to learn what he can to improve his technique.

***

On a Saturday late in July, Spock's door chime sounds at 0714 hours.

It is Nyota. Spock welcomes her and offers her some tea, which she declines. She wears a somber expression and her body language is agitated.

"Nyota--are you unwell? Is there something I can do to assist you?" he asks.

She pushes her hair back from her face and nods. "Yeah. I'm in a pretty crappy mood. I really need to get out of the city. I want to get out into nature, and go hiking. Will you come with me?"

Spock nods. He had no firm plans for that morning, and he is always ready to assist Nyota when she needs him.

They make it onto the eight o'clock ferry to Angel Island, and decide to hike the Sunset Trail up Mount Livermore with nothing but two water bottles and a packet of mixed nuts.

A few other hikers are out that morning, but Nyota and Spock are by themselves for the majority of their hike.

There is little conversation as they climb to the top of Mount Livermore. Nyota seems pensive and upset, but Spock chooses to wait. If she wishes to share her troubles with him, she will.

After an hour and a half they reach the summit. Spock has only made the climb once before, as a cadet, and had forgotten the magnificence of the three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of San Francisco Bay.

The scent of damp earth and salty water fills Spock's nose as he and Nyota stand side by side, viewing the beauty around them in silence. The wind ruffles her hair--now pulled back in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. Spock notices that she has emptied her water bottle, and wordlessly hands her his own. His body does not require as much liquid refreshment as hers, and he does not wish her to become dehydrated.

She takes a few sips from the bottle, and closes it.

She stands at the edge of the overlook, staring out at the open sea. "I broke up with Cedric last night."

Spock feels a lurch of indefinable emotion as questions flood his mind. Why did their relationship end? Is she deeply unhappy? And why did she come to see _him_, of all her friends, for consolation?

"I am sorry for your distress. Is there anything I can do for you?"

She turns to look up at him, the sorrow in her eyes contrasting strangely with the slight smile on her lips. "You're already helping. Thanks for coming with me."

"You are welcome." He steps closer to her, hoping that his physical presence will help buoy her spirits.

She looks back out at the ocean. "I knew it wasn't going to last, but I didn't expect it to end this soon." She sniffs. "Last week I told him that seniors submit their official requests for post-graduation assignments at the beginning of the fall semester. He started pressuring me request an Earth-side posting so we could still be together. Yesterday we got in a big fight about it."

She raises her eyes to Spock again. "He accused me of caring more about you and Gaila than I do about him. And I realized that he was right. So I broke up with him." She looks out at the view again. "It wasn't fair to him to keep him in a relationship with no future. I did the right thing."

Though the long hike barely raised Spock's heart rate, Nyota's words send it racing.

Nyota takes a deep breath. "More than a year ago Gaila and I had a big talk about our priorities, and we came up with a kind of mantra--_career, family, friends, men._ That's the order of priorities in our lives. We repeat it to each other whenever we get distracted by something trivial. And that's what was in my mind when I was fighting with Cedric. He wanted me to change my career goals for him, and he wanted me to give up my friends for him." She smiles wider, but it does not spread to her eyes, which remain sorrowful. "What he didn't count on was being below both of those things on my priority list."

She shakes her head. "Too bad that list doesn't stop it from hurting."

Spock sees tears welling in her eyes. He steps even closer to her, and gently wraps his arm around her shoulders.

She looks up at him. "You don't have to do this, Spock. I know it makes you uncomfortable."

"Nyota--I know that Humans offer gestures of physical affection to one another in order to provide comfort in times of emotional distress. Allow me to provide this service for you now. Please."

Her faint smile returns. "Thank you."

He tightens his embrace around her shoulders, and she leans her head against his side. They stand like that for several minutes as a few tears make their way down her cheeks. Spock feels a sensation of warmth and closeness that he has never felt with anyone but his mother. He knows now that regardless of whether he can ever engage in a romantic relationship with Nyota, she will always be his friend.

Finally, she pulls back, sniffing and wiping away her tears. Now, her smile is more genuine.

"Thank you," she says. "That really helped."

This is exactly what Spock wanted to hear.

***

That night, over dinner, Janice remarks, "I tried to get a hold of you a few times this morning to see if you wanted to join me for lunch, but I couldn't find you anywhere."

Spock swallows his bite of rice. "I apologize. I was with Cadet Uhura for most of the day in a State Park with limited communications access." In truth, his mind continues to be much occupied with Nyota. Her spirits still seemed much depressed when they parted two hours ago, and he very nearly cancelled his date to spend the remainder of the day with her instead.

"Hmm." Janice pokes listlessly at her food before looking up to meet Spock's gaze. "I'm going to be frank with you, because I think it's a waste of time being anything but frank."

Spock nods.

Janice takes a deep breath. "Are you dating me just to get over the temptation to have an affair with your TA?"

He freezes, dumbfounded.

Janice rolls her eyes. "It's okay if that's the truth. I've been dumped for younger and prettier women before. I can handle it."

"I…" Spock is utterly unprepared to respond. "It would be a violation of the Starfleet Academy Code of Conduct for me to engage in such a relationship with Cadet Uhura."

"I know. That's why you came to me." She shakes her head. "I've been used by several men before--and a few others have tried to use me. But none of their reasons were quite so Puritanical as trying to evade an illegitimate relationship by getting involved in a legitimate one. I suppose I can see the logic of it, though. That must be what led to this little plan of yours."

He looks away from her gaze, a wave of shame washing over him. He cannot even deny her accusations--there is too much truth in them. Nyota has been his true desire from the start. Janice is right--she was nothing more than a diversion.

"I take it from your silence that I've hit pretty close to home." She taps her finger restlessly on the table.

Spock forces himself to meet her eyes. "I am sorry for hurting you. It was never my intention."

"I know. I'll get over it." She sighs. "Well, obviously this is the end of things for us. But I like you well enough to give you a bit of parting advice."

"Yes?"

"Talk to Cadet Uhura about how you feel about her. Obviously little games like the one you've been playing with me aren't going to do anything to change your feelings for her. You have to confront them, and do something about them. If she doesn't feel the same way, you can start moving on. But if she does--well…" She shrugs. "You wouldn't be the first young instructor to carry on a clandestine relationship with a cadet. And I'm sure you won't be the last. Or if your rules and regulations are too important to you, maybe the two of you can agree to wait for each other, or something." She shakes her head and shrugs again. "More than friends but less than lovers? Or something like that."

She takes a last sip of her wine, and rises to her feet. "Well, that's that. Take care of yourself, Spock. I hope you get your mess sorted out."

He rises as well. "Thank you, Janice. I appreciate your advice, and I will give it serious consideration. Live long and prosper."

She nods. "Good-bye, Spock." The corner of her mouth quirks up. "If anyone ever tells me again that Vulcans have no emotions, I plan on laughing in their face."

She turns, and walks away.

Spock sinks back to his seat, his head spinning. Janice is correct. It was naïve of him to assume that desires for a deeper relationship with Nyota could be postponed by his experiment with dating. His longing for her has not ceased, nor does he foresee it diminishing at any point in the near future.

Any further attempts at dating other women will have an almost one hundred percent probability of ending just as poorly--or worse--than this attempt has ended. And, now that she is no longer involved with Cedric, one of his most formidable obstacles is out of the way. It is illogical to repress his desires for Nyota any longer.

Something must be done.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's notes: **You all have my continued thanks for your wonderful, supportive comments. And, as ever, thanks goes to my beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter 7

_It had become clear to Spock that in the four months that they had served aboard the _Exeter _together, Ensign Olga Lysenko had become more than a little obsessed with him. The waifish blond had somehow talked her way into sharing the same duty schedule as him, had convinced the ship Science Officer to assign her to one of Spock's special projects, and sought him during their off-duty hours, as well._

_She took every opportunity to sit with him in the mess hall, to lounge in the same recreation rooms as him, and had even utilized the ship's kitchen to prepare him a batch of homemade plomeek soup--one of his childhood favorites. He had no idea how she was even aware of his preference for plomeek soup._

_Though Spock attempted to cultivate a respectful but distant attitude toward the Ensign, she showed no signs of discontinuing her unwanted advances. She was not an unpleasant person. Her features were adequately symmetrical, her skin clear and smooth, and her hair tidily arranged. Her conversation was no more or less engaging than that of Spock's other crewmates. However, her unrelenting pursuit of him was very disagreeable. _

_Soon, Spock noticed other crewmembers watching his interactions with Ensign Lysenko. They seemed to waiting for a sign of--what? Annoyance? Anger? Or did they expect him to display signs of mutual attraction?_

_Eventually, Spock reached the limit of his patience. He arranged to speak to the Captain in private._

_"Sir," said Spock, standing in front of Captain Pike's desk. "I seek your assistance in resolving a difficulty with one of my fellow crewmembers."_

_"Oh?" Captain Pike leaned forward, raising his eyebrows. "Who are you having problems with, Lieutenant?" _

_"With Ensign Lysenko, sir. She has embarked on what I feel compelled to describe as a lengthy and single-minded courtship of me, Sir."_

_Much to Spock's frustration, Pike smiled and chuckled under his breath. "I've heard about her little crusade to win you over. I can't blame you for finally wanting to surrender. She's a good looking girl." He leaned back. "I don't see any problem with you giving into her advances. I'll tell Commander Tyron to reassign her to a new science team, so she's not under your chain of command anymore."_

_Spock was baffled by the Captain's response. "Sir, I think you misunderstand me."_

_"Do I? Are you asking for help? I'd be happy to act as a go-between for you, and fix you up for a date. I've been thinking you could use a little romance in your life."_

_Spock's face began to grow warm. "No, Captain. You continue to misunderstand. I came here hoping that you could rearrange my duty schedule so that I no longer share all my shifts with Ensign Lysenko. And, if you are willing, I would appreciate if you would speak to her on my behalf, and ask her to refrain from her overt romantic overtures. They make me very uncomfortable."_

_The captain's eyes went wide. "Oh. I apologize, Lieutenant. I was certain you were interested in her. You always eat with her, and hang out with her in your free time. I just assumed that you returned her. . . regard."_

_Spock clenched his jaw. "I treated her with the same respect and courtesy that I grant to all of my crewmates. She sought me out, and I politely accepted her company. I never intended to show her special preference, and find myself exceedingly displeased that all of my crewmates seem to have expectations of a relationship that exists purely in their imaginations."_

_"I see." Captain Pike drummed his fingers on his desktop. "Well. I suppose with that stoic demeanor of yours, people tend to ascribe whatever emotions they want to you. And for some reason the idea of a Vulcan in a romance caught their imaginations. Maybe everyone thought your Human half would finally win out. I apologize on behalf of the crew for any behavior that's made you feel uncomfortable or out of place."_

_"Thank you, Captain."_

_Pike sighed. "I'll go ahead and change your duty shifts so you don't always share a schedule with Ensign Lysenko anymore, but you can't avoid her completely. This is a small ship."_

_"I understand. I did not expect my schedule to be devoid of overlap with the Ensign's schedule."_

_"As for talking to her," Pike gave Spock a stern look, "I'm afraid you'll have to do that yourself. You may not have intended to lead her on, but by continuing to accept her overtures, that's exactly what you did. Whether you like it or not, you made this mess, and now you've got to clean it up. _

_Spock accepted the Captain's decision, and thanked him for his assistance. But as he left the Captain's office, he experienced a pestering sensation of doubt. He had no desire to hurt Ensign Lysenko, but he was uncertain if he could successfully explain his position to her without doing so. It was a dilemma that he had no idea how to solve._

***

"Ooo, this is good," says Nyota after swallowing a bite of her dinner. "I love that burn." After another bite she adds, "People aren't exaggerating when they call this the best Thai food in the bay area."

It has been four days since he and Janice ended their relationship--five since Nyota and Cedric ended theirs. And it is their first evening alone together since those events took place.

"It's too bad Janice couldn't make it," says Nyota. "I'm sure she would have loved it."

"Janice and I have terminated our relationship," he says. "It would have been illogical to allow the reservation to go unused, so I am pleased you were able to join me tonight in her place."

Nyota freezes, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. Spock wonders if his announcement was too abrupt.

"You...you broke up with Janice?" She lowers her chopsticks back to her plate.

Spock nods. "Yes."

"I'm so sorry." She slides her hand across the table toward him in what he recognizes as a gesture of Human compassion. "I had no idea. If I'd known I never would have brought her up. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Do not concern yourself," he replies. "I am not distressed. I intended to tell you tonight."

"I don't know what to say. I had no idea things weren't going well for you."

Her hand still rests on the table not far from him. He raises his own hand to rest on the table top. "We mutually concluded that our desires for the future were at odds, and ended the relationship amicably. I wish her well for the future, and she indicated that she wishes me well also."

"I'm glad." Her eyes dart down to her plate. "It's easier that way. When relationships end badly it can be . . . difficult to get over them." She curls her outstretched hand into a ball.

"Do you still struggle with the pain of dissolving your relationship with Cedric?"

"Yeah, a little." Her voice grows soft. "That kind of pain doesn't go away overnight. But, uh . . . I'm okay. Really. I'll be fine."

Spock is disappointed. He had hoped to declare his true desires to Nyota tonight, but if she still feels the pain of her separation from Cedric, perhaps it is too soon for her to accept a new relationship. Perhaps it would be better if he were to wait until the beginning of the new semester, once she has had a few more weeks to adjust.

However, though it may be too soon to make overt romantic advances, Spock recalls some applicable advice from one of the Human relationship books he read at the beginning of the summer. It suggested that one should express one's feelings and intentions through one's actions even before expressing them vocally. This is something he can do now. He can show Nyota through his actions how important she is to him, and how she means more to him than a mere friend.

He lifts his hand from the table, and reaches for her balled hand. He extends his first and second fingers, and rests his fingertips lightly on the back of her hand. "I hope that your pain will be of short duration."

Her eyes dart down to his fingers on her hand, and her gaze rests there for several moments before she looks back up into his eyes. She uncurls her fingers and shifts her hand.

Just as Spock is about to withdraw his hand, she turns her own hand palm up and grasps his hand in her own.

A shock runs through him as his mind fills with a sudden awareness of her feelings. He cannot perceive her thoughts, as in a true mind meld, but her emotions wash over him like a wave.

She is confused, yet eager. Nervous, yet excited. And beneath it all he perceives--attraction. Desire. Directed at _him_.

The sudden surge of emotion is slightly overwhelming, and he gently withdraws his hand. "We should conclude our meals before they grow cold."

She nods, and picks up her chopsticks, yet continues to watch him. He returns her gaze, wondering if tonight might not be too soon to declare himself to her after all.

***

After dinner, Nyota accepts Spock's invitation to accompany him back to his apartment. Oddly, once inside, she seems uncomfortable and nervous--emotions she has never before displayed during her visits. She stands in the center of his living room, an awkward smile on her face.

He sees her looking at his lute on a console table against the wall. "It has been many months since I first offered to perform for you. My proficiency with the compositions of Tybaz has strengthened considerably in the intervening time. Perhaps I might play for you tonight?"

"Yes, absolutely. I'd love to hear you play." Yet her voice still wavers nervously.

Spock feels a twinge of nervousness, as well, as he picks up his lute and they sit side by side on his sofa.

He puts his fingers to the strings, knowing full well that he has a fine grasp on the piece he has chosen to play, yet irrationally worrying that he will make excessive errors.

He breathes deeply, focusing his mind intently on the piece, and begins to play.

After making it through the first several bars without error, his confidence mounts. Soon he is completely lost in the music, strumming and plucking the familiar notes, caught up in the mathematical precision of the composition.

His heart begins to race, and his breath comes faster. Beyond the music he can hear Nyota's breath--also faster than normal. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her placing her hand on the sofa mere centimeters from his leg. He breathes deeply of her perfume, inhaling the scents of sandalwood and incense.

He closes his eyes and continues to play, focusing on the feeling of the warm, and deceptively strong plant-fiber strings beneath his fingers, and the lingering smooth tones of the notes in his ears.

Finally, the composition comes to an end and Spock withdraws his hand from the strings, allowing the vibrations to cease. He carefully places the instrument on the coffee table before them and turns to look into Nyota's eyes for the first time since he began to play.

He is surprised to see that her eyes glisten with moisture.

"That was beautiful," she says. "Every time I listen to Vulcan music it amazes how full of emotion it is. Your performance was. . . particularly emotional. And I mean that as a compliment."

Spock leans toward her, and places one of his hands over the hand that rests beside him. "Perhaps our music is a safe outlet for emotions that we would otherwise consider dangerous."

"Are your emotions dangerous?"

He leans even closer to her, tilting his head forward until their foreheads are nearly touching. "I do not know," he whispers.

He raises his free hand, and caresses her face with his first and second fingers, running them from her temple down her cheek to her jaw line. She has never looked more enticing.

Her eyes close, and she takes a deep breath. "Wait."

Again, he senses her attraction and desire. But there is still confusion. Too much confusion.

He withdraws his hand from her face and pulls back from her, sitting up straight.

Her eyes open again. "Before we do anything else, I think I need some clarification."

"What may I clarify for you?"

Based on the way she looks at him, Spock surmises that she seems to think he ought to know exactly what needs clarifying.

"You've sent me so many mixed signals over the past--God, more than a year--that I really don't know how to interpret what's going on here. Are you..." Her face grows nervous again. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

His eyes widen in surprise, and he pulls back his second hand. "Seduction was not my intention--"

She interrupts him. "But you _did_ break up with Janice to be with me, didn't you?"

There is no point in belaboring the specifics of his separation with Janice. "Yes."

She closes her eyes again, turning away from him and takes a slow, deep breath. "Okay. Okay."

Spock feels suddenly anxious. This is not going as smoothly as he had hoped. "Have I distressed you?"

She opens her eyes again. "No! No. Distressed isn't the right word. It's just... I'm just..."

"Surprised?"

"Yes." She nods. "I shouldn't be. I've seen the signs. And it's not that I haven't thought about something like this happening, because I have. I've probably thought about it way _too_ much. But most of that thinking was focused on trying to convince myself that this would never ever happen and telling myself to value you as a friend because that was all you would ever be no matter how much it seemed like you were flirting with me sometimes because I had to be misinterpreting your actions because Vulcans just don't do that sort of thing and..." She pauses to take a deep breath. "I'm rambling. Oh God, I'm nervous. Okay."

She rises to her feet, pushes the hair out of her face, and paces the length of his living room.

Spock is utterly confused. He perceived her attraction and desire for him when he touched her, and she has all but admitted to harboring a lengthy infatuation for him, yet he feels as far from entering a romantic relationship with her as he was when the evening began.

"Nyota," he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, "I am uncertain of how to proceed. What do you need?"

She halts and brushes both of her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. I broke up with Cedric less than a week ago, for Christ's sake. I need a minute to process all of this."

"Take all the time that you need." He nods. "I apologize for the abruptness of this...of my..." He finds himself at a loss for words.

"Spock, I think I need to know what you want. Between us. Did you want to--I don't know--try dating? Is that what you want?" She looks down at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

At this moment the word _dating_ seems entirely inadequate to describe what he wants from Nyota. "Allow me to explain myself." He rests his palms on his knees, trying to compose himself. "For many months now I have been drawn to you--I have desired more than friendship from you. However, it seemed illogical to attempt to advance our relationship in the face of the obstacles. I believed that my experiment with dating would allow me to set aside my desires until those obstacles were removed. The experiment was not successful. At least, not entirely successful."

Her gaze is still locked with his. Spock rises to his feet and steps around the coffee table toward her. "The one concrete result of my experiment was to bring me to the realization that I have no desire to pursue a romantic relationship with any Human but you."

Nyota folds her arms and takes a deep breath. "Okay." Her eyes dart down to the ground. "What about T'Pring? Will I be just another experiment while you try to decide what you want to do about your betrothal?"

He takes another step toward her. "You could never be an experiment to me. If you ask me to, I will contact T'Pring immediately and arrange for the termination of our bond."

Before this moment he had not even considered such an extreme measure, but as he speaks the words he knows that they are the truth. His relationship with Nyota is far more important to him than his bond with T'Pring has ever been. It is only logical to offer the sacrifice of the one in order to preserve the other.

Nyota's hands drop to her sides. "You would really do that for me?"

He steps even closer to her. "Yes. I would."

He closes the gap between them, and reaches out to take her hands in his. The jolt of her emotions against his mind is not so jarring this time. Perhaps he is already growing accustomed to it.

Leaning in toward her, he pulls her even closer and lowers his head until the bridge of his nose rests lightly against her forehead. The intimacy of their touch thrills him. Already he feels a level of sexual arousal that he has not experienced since he first achieved puberty and had not yet learned to repress his sexual impulses.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly, brushing his lips against her temple. "Nyota," he whispers.

His heart races as he trails his lips down the side of her face. He senses her rising anxiety an instant before she pulls away from him.

"Wait," she says again, disentangling her hands from his. "This is all happening so fast." She steps back from him, and the slight physical separation already feels like a significant loss.

"We really need to think about this," she says. "We need to talk about this before we jump right in. This is a really, _really_ big step. We can't just rush it. I mean, if we do this we could be putting our careers in jeopardy. We could ruin our friendship. We have to think about the consequences."

Spock begins to see that he has been impetuous. He has not given Nyota enough time to prepare for this step. He must find a way to reassure her. "I would not lead you down this path unprepared. I have made numerous investigations and inquiries to ensure a minimization of potential negative consequences to our respective careers. Most critically, I have spoken with Captain Varik about exchanging teaching assistants with him beginning next semester. Cadet Elliot has been Captain Varik's assistant for two years, just as you have been my assistant for two years. The Captain agrees that it would be beneficial to you both to work under a different instructor for your final year at the Academy, thereby broadening the variety of your experiences and your network of contacts. He believes that Cadet Elliot will be amenable to the exchange. This move would remove you from my direct chain of command, thereby lessening the degree of severity with which our infraction will be treated should it be discovered."

Nyota runs her hand through her hair again. Her anxiety does not appear to have decreased.

Spock continues. "And our discovery is by no means inevitable. I feel confident that we can behave with extreme discretion if we plan well." She continues to frown. "If you believe such steps are insufficient, I have made preliminary inquires into giving up my classes altogether. If I am no longer an instructor, our relationship falls into a regulatory gray-area."

She shakes her head. "You love teaching. I'm not going to ask you to give it up for me."

"You do not have to ask."

Their gazes meet. It is clear from her facial expression that her worries are not entirely gone, but she seems less anxious than a few minutes ago.

"I don't know what to say." This time Nyota reaches out to take Spock's hand. "I've been interested in you as more than a friend for--longer than I'm willing to admit. And if you'd waited ten months--even eight months--until I had my post-graduation assignment and I knew where the future was going to take me, I would say yes in an instant."

His heart pounds in his abdomen, and he shifts his feet to lessen the distance between them.

She looks down and shakes her head. "But right now, I'm not sure. I want to be with you. I do." Spock squeezes her hand more tightly as his hope rises. "But things right now are so uncertain," she concludes. Spock feels a knot of tension forming in his gut. He knows that this is a result of his error. If he had only marshaled greater patience, this would not be happening.

As he clings to her hand, her feelings of desire, anxiety, excitement, fear and confusion crash over him like waves. It is almost overwhelming--he does not know how Nyota can stand there looking so composed while her interior being is in turmoil.

"What can I do?" he asks, his voice coming out as a strained murmur. "How can I ease your concerns?"

"I don't know." She squeezes her eyes shut and leans against him, resting her head on his chest.

Spock understands now why casual affection is so discouraged among his people. The stirrings of desire and possessiveness that he feels are intense. He wraps his arms around her, allowing the fingers of one hand to trail slowly through her hair. He tries to keep his mind under control--to focus on analyzing her concerns and formulating logical solutions--but the feel of her small yet undeniably strong frame in his arms and the slight scent of her sweat beneath her perfume that fills his nostrils are almost enough to demolish his tenuous hold on rationality.

He wants nothing more than to quell the waves of anxiety and fear that continue to swirl in her mind so that they can revel in this new closeness. But he does not know how.

"I've known other people," she says, still leaning against him, "who tried to move from friendship into romance. And when it didn't work out, their friendship was ruined. They could never go back." She draws back enough to look up into his eyes. "I don't want that to happen to us. You're my best friend. I don't want to ruin that."

"I see no logical reason why we cannot be both friends and something more." One of his arms continues to circle her waist, while with his other he traces the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Now that he has started touching her, he cannot seem to make himself stop.

"You're right, I know," she says as she runs one of her hands slowly up and down his back, trailing a wake of sheer pleasure behind it. "I'm being paranoid. My mind is spinning so fast. I can't stop thinking. I wish I could stop thinking. Why can't I just stop thinking?"

Spock has no adequate response, as, with every touch of her fingers, he loses more of _his_ ability to think.

She meets his eyes. "What if we do this, and then I'm not assigned to the _Enterprise_? I don't know if I could take that."

"This is a simple matter. As first officer I will assist Captain Pike in the crew selection process. I can ensure you are assigned to the _Enterprise_."

The shift in Nyota's emotions is sudden and sharp, her indignation cutting through his lust-fueled stupor in a painful instant.

She steps away from him, shrugging off his embrace. "No. Tell me you did not just say that."

Spock perceives that he has offended her, but does not fully understand how.

"Everything I have," she says, "all that I've achieved--every honor and position that I have received--have come because I've worked for them. Because I've earned them. If I took a position that I was offered out of favoritism, it would undermine everything I've worked for. All of my other achievements would be tainted."

Now Spock understands. Once again, he spoke hastily, allowing his desires to cloud his judgment. "I believe that you are overstating the impact of--"

"No! I'm not." She frowns. "You don't understand because you aren't as judgmental as Humans are."

He must find some way to recover from this blunder, before it ruins everything. "Nyota, you must know that I would never offer you a position unless you were fully qualified and had proven yourself worthy."

"I don't know." She folds her arms. "I don't know if I can trust you to be impartial with me anymore."

Her point is valid; nevertheless, Spock still believes that he can separate his personal regard for her from his professional opinion of her. Not that he will need to--her performance has always been exemplary.

He takes a deep breath, and clasps his hands behind his back. Perhaps he can circumvent her arguments altogether. "Based on your academic performance, your varied and commendable summer work experiences, and the number of faculty recommendations you are likely to receive I would calculate your chance of attaining the posting of your choice at higher than ninety percent. And if your thesis is as well-received as I expect it to be, then those odds will increase to more than ninety-six percent in your favor. My pre-supposed favoritism is unlikely to ever be a factor."

She closes her eyes and nods. "I'm sorry. I probably overreacted. It's just that this is the sort of thing that could haunt me for the rest of my career. I don't want to take any chances."

She steps back from her, running her hands through her hair again. "Hell. This could be a problem even if I _do_ earn a post on the _Enterprise _legitimately. If we're together when I get assigned to the _Enterprise, _there'll be people who assume the worst and spread gossip that I slept my way into my post. That's the sort of thing that could follow me for years. It could undermine the respect of my peers and anyone who might serve under me."

Spock can feel her slipping away, and he is powerless to stop it. Her fears are legitimate--such rumors and ill-will very well could persist. Yet, should not their relationship be more important than avoiding gossip?

With a tortured look in her eyes she catches his gaze. "I don't know if I can do this. There are too many risks. Too many ways it could hurt my career."

The rush of pain, anger, and frustration that wells up inside of him is stronger than anything he has experienced in years. He clenches his fists at his sides. "Ah, yes. _Career, family, friends, men._ I had forgotten that your career always comes first." His voice sounds painfully bitter as it rings in his ears, and he regrets his words the instant they leave his mouth.

His regret deepens when he sees the moisture welling in Nyota's eyes.

"Don't say it like that, Spock. You make me sound like some sort of unfeeling, ambition-crazed robot." His voice shakes, and he is uncertain if it is with pain or anger or a mixture of both.

He turns away from her and takes a deep, calming breath. "My tone was uncalled for. I apologize."

"It's okay. You have the right to be upset. But so do I." He looks back at her. Her eyes are flashing, still sparkling with unshed tears. "You've obviously thought about this long and hard for weeks. Months, even. But you sprang it on me five days after I broke up with Cedric, and now you seem to expect me to know exactly what I want immediately? Plus, you're acting like the entire future of our relationship depends on what I decide right now--when I'm stressed, and emotional, and can hardly think straight!"

The unfairness of his actions is now clear to him. Unfortunately, what has been said cannot be unsaid. They must find a way to cope with the situation at hand.

"You are correct, Nyota. My timing was poorly chosen. I should have given you more time following the end of your relationship. I was--impatient. I apologize."

She nods, but says nothing.

Spoke steps back toward her. "I only expressed my desires to you tonight because I perceived a mutual attraction from you. I have hoped for this for a very long time, and I allowed my excitement to get the best of me. However, I do not wish to place undue pressure on you. If you need more time to consider what we have discussed, you may have it."

"There is a mutual attraction." She holds his gaze. "A strong one. But . . . I still need time to think. Right now my mind is such a jumble I probably couldn't even conjugate verbs in Vulcan, let alone make a decision that might impact the rest of my life." She takes a long, deep breath. "I always thought I'd have a career for ten or fifteen years before even _thinking_ about finding someone to get serious with. And here I am, not even done with school yet, and I might have already found _the one._"

Her words hearten him. Perhaps the chances of a favorable outcome are higher than he was beginning to think.

"That's why this is such a big decision," she says. "Because I know you wouldn't suggest breaking up with T'Pring if you weren't absolutely serious about this. And if you're serious, then this won't be just a fling. This could be forever." She shakes her head. "My God, Spock. I'm only twenty-three. I don't know if I'm ready for _forever_ yet. That's why I need some time to think."

He nods, her words echoing in his head. _Forever. _Forever with Nyota. The concept is very appealing. "I understand. A decision of this magnitude requires deep consideration and analysis. You may take all the time that you need."

For the first time in nearly fifteen minutes, her mouth curves up into a slight smile. It is a refreshing sight. "Thank you."

"You depart for Denobula in less than four days. Do you think will be able to make your decision by then?"

She nibbles on her bottom lip for a moment before answering. "I don't know. You need to be patient with me."

He nods. "I shall endeavor to do my best."

She moves towards him. "I think I'd better go now."

"Very well."

"I'll talk to you sometime before I leave. But let _me_ contact _you_, okay?"

Though Spock does not like the idea of being made to wait for her communication, he responds, "As you wish."

She holds his gaze for another moment, and then quickly closes the gap between them. She reaches up to rest one palm against his right cheek, and gently pulls his face down to place a light kiss on his left cheek. It requires all of his willpower to restrain himself from encircling her in his arms. He fears that any excessive expressions of affection at this point will only make her feel more pressured.

She steps back from him and nods. "I'll talk to you soon."

He nods back, and she leaves his apartment, the door swishing closed behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** As ever, thank you very much for all your wonderful reviews. And thanks to my beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter Eight

_Spock sat at the mess hall table, a nervous knot in his stomach, waiting for Ensign Lysenko to join him. _

_The hall was quiet--Spock was the only one there. He purposefully arranged this meeting in a public location in order to avoid the appearance of impropriety. But he chose an hour long after dinner in order to improve their chances of privacy. He spent three days planning and practicing what he would say to the Ensign, but that did not prevent him from feeling great discomfort at the prospect of this confrontation._

_The knot in his stomach grew even tighter when Ensign Lysenko entered the mass hall with an excited grin on her face. "Hello, Lieutenant." _

_"Ensign." He nodded._

_She took a seat next to him, rested her elbows on the table, and leaned toward him. "So, what did you want to talk about so late at night?"_

_Spock gritted his teeth and sat a little straighter. "It is a matter of some delicacy."_

_"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows and leaned even closer._

_"Yes." The knot in his stomach started to ache. "I understand that you have developed a romantic interest in me. I appreciate the compliment; however, I am uninterested in pursuing a romantic relationship at this time. I would prefer to keep our relationship purely professional."_

_As he spoke, her smile crumpled and her eyes dulled. Clearly she was displeased with his statement. He hoped she wouldn't cry._

_"Oh. I . . . I'm sorry." Her eyes started to moisten, and Spock shifted uncomfortably. This was exactly the sort of emotional display he had hoped to avoid._

_The Ensign raised a hand to wipe her eyes. "I was so sure . . ." She shook her head, her expression suddenly growing hard. "Why did you make me think you cared? Why did you spend so much time with me, if you weren't ever interested?"_

_Spock took a deep breath, the corners of his mouth turning down. "I merely intended to treat you with respect and friendship. It was only recently that I realized you believed my consideration to mean something more."_

_It was not the whole truth, and Ensign Lysenko saw through it immediately. "I was perfectly clear about what I felt for you," she retorted. "You had to have known."_

_"I . . . I had no desire to hurt your feelings."_

_She frowned at him. "So toying with my emotions for months on end and then breaking the bad news in public was your way of sparing my feelings?"_

_"I can see that I miscalculated the impact of my actions on your emotions. I apologize."_

_"Miscalculated?" The pitch and volume of her voice rose. "You apologize? You can't just apologize for stomping all over a girl's heart." She stood. "You made me believe there could really be something between us."_

_"Beyond expressing my regret and offering my apology I do not understand what more I can do for you, Ensign."_

_Her eyes narrowed. "Bethany warned me you would be like this--cold and unfeeling. I told her she was wrong. I told her you were different--that underneath it all you had a warm heart. But you don't, do you?"_

_Spock clenched his teeth, desperately wishing that Captain Pike had agreed to speak with Ensign Lysenko on his behalf. "Ensign, you are a sufficiently attractive woman. I am certain you will have no difficulties finding a more suitable romantic partner in the future."_

_"No I won't." A note of hysteria rang in her voice. "Everyone knew how I felt about you. You made me act like an utter fool." With a cry of frustration she rose to her feet. "Thank you very much, Lieutenant Spock. Thanks to you I'm going to be the laughing stock of the entire ship."_

_She turned to leave the room. Spock rose, a feeling of guilt emanating from the knot in his stomach. "Ensign--"_

_"Just leave me alone!" She stormed out of the mess hall, leaving him to himself. Spock sat and pondered over what missteps he must have made for things to go so very wrong. He had to be certain that nothing like this ever happened again._

_Two days later Captain Pike called him in for a private meeting. "So," said the Captain, "I understand your conversation with Ensign Lysenko didn't go too well."_

_"Unfortunately, Captain, that is an understatement."_

_Pike nodded slowly. "I would say so. She's filed a formal complaint against you for sexual harassment."_

_The knot of tension in Spock's gut instantly reformed. "Captain, she has no grounds for any such complaint--"_

_"I'm inclined to agree, Lieutenant. I suspect that the complaint is her way of expressing her anger and disappointment. A very immature way, I might add. However, I have no choice but to conduct an investigation."_

_Spock furrowed his brow. "Is that really necessary, Captain? I do not wish to expose this matter to other personnel, as will inevitably happen in such an investigation."_

_"I know. I don't want to do this any more than you do--especially since I'm virtually certain that the Ensign's claims are groundless." Pike tapped his chin. "Well, there is one other option."_

_"What would that be?" Spock was eager for any way to avoid making his unpleasant disagreement with Ensign Lysenko more public than it already was._

_"If you attend a sexual harassment training session with the Human Resources officer, I'll drop the investigation and order Ensign Lysenko to let the matter rest."_

_Spock clenched his jaw in frustration at the indignity of the solution, but it was still preferable to the investigation. "Very well. I will attend the training session."_

_"I think that's a wise choice. Schedule the training as soon as possible."_

_"Yes, sir."_

_"You're dismissed, Lieutenant."_

_Spock rose to leave when Pike spoke again. "And Lieutenant?"_

_"Sir?"_

_"Next time you don't like a girl, try to make it a little more obvious from the start."_

_Spock nodded. "Thank you, sir. That is very good advice."_

_Pike smiled. "The funny thing is, if you suddenly changed your mind and decided you wanted to date Ensign Lysenko after all, she'd probably still do it."_

_Spock raised his eyebrow as Pike chuckled. Human romantic impulses were unfathomable. Spock felt fortunate he would never have to experience them himself._

***

The next three days prove to be some of the longest of Spock's life.

Normally, he readies himself for his daily duties by meditating. However, now when he closes his eyes the scent of Nyota's skin and perfume fills his nose, and the memory of her hands linked with his and her fingers trailing down his back overwhelms his mind, making true meditation impossible.

He is restless and unfocused at work. Several times an hour he feels the urge to visit Nyota at the long range sensor lab and speak to her. But he must resist. He has promised to give her all the time that she needs to consider her options. He must not violate his agreement.

He barely sleeps the first night, and on the second day is even more restless than before.

In the early afternoon, one of his subordinates in the campus computing department, Ensign Gonong, visits him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir," she says. "But I was reviewing the programming code you wrote for the shuttlecraft simulator, and I think I may have found some errors." Her voice is tentative.

The corners of his mouth turn down. "Errors? That is highly unlikely."

She hands him a data chip. "See for yourself, sir."

Spock inserts the chip into his console, and scans the sections of code that Ensign Gonong has highlighted. His eyes widen in surprise. She is correct. He has indeed made several errors.

He never makes errors.

"My apologies, Ensign. I have been unwell the past few days. Clearly it has affected my work. Would you and Lieutenant Topher please review all the code I have produced over the last three days and verify that there are no more errors? I will be more vigilant to avoid any further problems."

"Absolutely, sir. And--" She hovers near his desk, her hands shifting restlessly. "If you're ill, maybe you should take the rest of the day off to rest."

Spock gives her a firm look. "I am perfectly capable of completing my normal work schedule. Thank you for your concern."

The Ensign nods, and leaves to return to her work.

A short time later, another visitor arrives at his office. It is Captain Pike.

As soon as the Captain enters he spreads his arms and shakes his head. "You broke up with Janice almost a week ago and never bothered to tell me?"

This is the last conversation Spock desires to have at this time. Unfortunately, it seems unavoidable.

"I was not aware of your continued interest in my personal life."

Pike raises his eyebrows, his eyes wide. "Of course I'm still interested. I'm your friend. And Janice is my friend. So what the hell happened?" He sinks into one of the chairs in front of Spock's desk--a sure indication that he won't leave without a conversation.

"We determined that neither of us wished to continue a romantic relationship, so we parted ways." Spock sits impassively, his hands resting lightly on the desktop.

"There has to be more to it than that."

Spock takes a slow breath. "The specific details of our decision making process are private, and I prefer not to share them. I will say only that I respect Janice and enjoy her company, and I hope that I may continue to call her my friend."

Pike smiles wryly. "That's all I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"

One corner of Spock's mouth twitches. "Yes. It is."

"Fine." Pike sighs. "I'll have to try to get more out of Janice next time I talk to her."

"Good luck." Spock does not expect Janice to be much more forthcoming than he has been.

"So, is this the end of our little arrangement?"

"If you are referring to your assistance in finding suitable women for me to date, than yes. I no longer desire your help in that matter. If I have any further desire to pursue relationships with Human women, I shall handle the arrangements myself."

"In other words, you plan on giving up on the venture altogether." Pike seems very sure of himself.

"It seems so." This is the closest Spock has ever come to lying to Captain Pike. It is easier than he had thought it would be.

Pike shakes his head. "Fine. I won't pry anymore. I'll be taking applications to fill the rest of the senior staff starting in September. I'll want to meet with you the first week of October so you can help me make my decisions."

"Certainly. I am eager to begin preparations for our maiden voyage."

"So am I. So am I." Pike grins. "I'll be spending the next month at Spacedock, supervising the installation and calibration of the warp drive. She's going to be a hell of a ship."

The corners of Spock's lips curl higher. "Indeed."

***

Pike's visit was a helpful diversion from Spock's thoughts of Nyota, but as the night deepens with no word from her, he grows restless once again. Why has she not called? How long will it take her to reach her decision?

After several fruitless hours of attempted meditation, Spock decides to work out his restlessness through physical exertion. He walks from the faculty housing on campus all the way to the San Francisco Bridge. It is well past 0200 hours, and he is alone in his walk, only occasional hovercars passing in the darkness.

The wind is strong, and the sky is heavy with clouds. He smells the damp in the air. It will rain soon.

When he reaches the bridge, he does not stop, but continues onto the footpath along the edge of the bridge. The wind whips the spray of the bay into his face. He tastes salt on his lips.

Thoughts of Nyota continue to fill his mind. He remembers her softness in his arms. He thinks of the scent of her--of the coolness of her skin.

Halfway across the bridge he stops and rests his hands on the railing as he faces the open waters. Rain begins to fall. It chills him to the bone. He shivers, but does not move until the rain stops falling. For a short time, he forgets his anxiety. There is only the rain.

***

Spock has not slept, and remains unfocused and restless at work. He requests two of his subordinates to continue to review all of his work, in case of further mistakes.

Just after sixteen-hundred hours he leaves a meeting in a fourth floor conference room and passes by the large windows facing the quad in front of the computing services building. He glances outside, and a familiar figure catches his eye. It is Nyota.

She paces back and forth in front of a bench no more than a hundred feet from the building.

Spock quickly excuses himself from his companions and hurries to the lift. He makes his way down to the front lobby and out the doors in less than four minutes. But when he reaches the quad, Nyota is already gone.

***

All evening Spock feels nauseous and weak. He cannot concentrate. He cannot think of anything beyond one question--why has Nyota not contacted him?

He paces his apartment like a caged tiger, waiting.

He begins to wonder why he has done this to himself. Why has he allowed her to so utterly overcome him? When did his well-being become so completely dependant upon her?

For the first time in weeks he sees clearly how illogical he has become. He has strayed further from the discipline of kolinahr than he ever thought possible.

Perhaps his decision to pursue a relationship with Nyota is a mistake. Perhaps even his friendship with her is a mistake. It is not logical to pursue a relationship which causes him such great distress. He will contact her in the morning before her shuttle leaves to rendezvous with the freighter to Denobula, and excuse her from her difficult decision. This is the logical choice.

A short time later, at 2342 hours, his door chimes. He never receives visitors this late in the night.

"Enter." He stands near the window in his living room, still restless and pacing.

The door slides open. It is Nyota.

She is out of uniform, instead wearing form-fitting black leggings and a loose purple tunic. Her hair hangs free, and her face looks drawn and weary.

Spock's guts clench. He feels certain that she has come to tell him that they cannot be together, and he momentarily forgets that he recently made the same logical decision.

"Hi," she says softly, a weak smile on her face.

Unable to form words, he merely nods.

"I'm sorry to come so late." She takes a few steps toward him. "But I really needed to see you before I leave."

He nods again, trying to form a vocal response, but failing. His tongue feels paralyzed.

She coughs lightly and shuffles her feet. "This morning I thought I'd made up my mind. I've barely slept--barely eaten--for two days thinking about what to do. About what I want. And this morning I finally decided that the logical decision would be to tell you that we need to wait. That we can continue in our friendship for the rest of the year, but nothing more. And if we have the good fortune to serve on the _Enterprise_ together in a year, we can reevaluate our relationship then, and decide if we're still interested in something more."

Spock feels suddenly drained. He wants to sleep until his mind and body have erased all traces of the last few days. "Yes," he manages to say. "That is the logical decision."

She takes another step toward him. "I came to your building this afternoon to tell you what I'd decided, but I couldn't make myself go inside. I stood there for nearly an hour, trying to make myself go and see you, but I just couldn't do it."

"Instead, I went out with Gaila and got drunk and weepy, and then she dragged me home and gave me some pills and coffee to sober me back up and we had a long, long talk. And . . . " She takes a deep breath. "And then I came here to tell you that I realized that the reason I couldn't go in and talk to you was because even though waiting might be the logical decision--it might even be the right decision--it's still not what I want. I don't want to be the kind of woman who's so focused on her career that she lets the other opportunities of life pass her by. I don't want to wait. I want to be with you. I want to be with you now." Her voice grows firmer and more confidant as she speaks.

For a moment, Spock remains still, blinking in disbelief. His new commitment to logical decision-making vanishes from his mind.

All that matters is Nyota, standing before him, telling him that she wants to be with him.

In three long strides he closes the gap between them. Without a word he grasps her hips with his hands and pulls her close, leaning in to capture her lips with his.

There is a momentary awkwardness as they fumble to conform to each other's embrace. Soon enough, they find their rhythm.

Waves of pleasure suffuse his body as her hands move first to his shoulders, and then to his neck, her fingers twining through his hair. All of his nervous tension drains away as their lips move firmly and hungrily together.

He wraps one arm around her back, pulling the length of her body into contact with his own, feeling every curve of her delicate figure. With his other arm, he reaches up to run the tips of his fingers over the gentle curve of her ear, and down the smooth slope of her neck.

His mind fills with an unfamiliar red haze. It is as if the scent and the taste that he now knows are uniquely _Nyota_ have filled him up, leaving all other concerns out of focus and unimportant.

She pulls out of the kiss and leans her temple against his cheek, breathing heavily. "I'm so sorry I made you wait. It must have been horrible for you."

"Do not concern yourself." He strokes her ear again, endlessly fascinated by the beautiful curve. "It is already in the past. I will not think of it again."

"Good," she says, squeezing him more tightly. "God, this feels so right."

His lips curl slightly upward. "Yes. It does."

He continues to hold her close, and as his mind clears somewhat he begins to perceive her emotions through their touch. A deep satisfaction fills him as he senses her happiness, excitement, and arousal. But underneath it all is a deep exhaustion.

He pulls back to look her in the eye. "I feel your exhaustion. You have reached the limit of your endurance. You must sleep."

She wears a tight smile. "Peeking inside my head, are you?"

"It is an unavoidable consequence of our physical contact."

Her lips part into a grin. "I guess I'll have to get used to that."

"It seems that we shall both have to get used to it. It is still a very new sensation for me as well."

"Not bad, I hope?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all." He leans forward for another kiss--this time slow and gentle.

When they eventually pull apart, Nyota wears a contented smile.

"Mmmm. I wish I could do that all night. But you're right. I am pretty exhausted."

Spock runs his fingers through her hair. "You have a long journey in the morning. It would be sensible to return to your dormitory and sleep."

"It would, wouldn't it?" Instead, she places a hand on his cheek and pulls him in for another kiss.

He is tempted to lose himself in the pleasure of the moment, but it is important to focus on Nyota's well-being, not merely on temporary pleasure.

"Please," he says breathlessly. "You must take care of yourself."

"I don't want to leave," she murmurs in a tone that sends shivers of anticipation down his spine.

He draws his mind back from where it has strayed and offers a compromise. "If you do not wish to leave, it seems logical that you sleep here. Come."

Her eyes go wide as he clasps her hand and draws her into the bedroom. He releases her hand to draw back the covers.

"Are you sure?" she asks. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Not at all. I would not have suggested it if I felt uncomfortable. Please--my only concern is your health. You have clearly not been caring for yourself these past few days."

"True." She grasps his hand again. "I've hardly slept."

"I experienced considerable difficulty sleeping, as well."

She strokes his cheek. "Then you should lie down with me. You need the rest as much as I do."

He suspects that lying beside Nyota will be in no way restful, but he nods in assent. It would be difficult to deny her anything tonight.

She slides out of her shoes and lies on one side of the bed, patting the empty space beside her with a soft smile.

Wordlessly, Spock slides onto the bed beside her. He lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest and staring at the ceiling.

Nyota snuggles close to him, reaching up to touch his cheek and turn his face toward her. She kisses him with eager energy.

He cannot resist her. He rolls onto his side to face her, wrapping his arm over her. His lips part and her tongue darts into his mouth. The taste of her is intoxicating. His arousal is hard and throbbing. He has never desired anything so much as he desires her now.

She pulls back, panting. "We should probably stop now, before we lose our will to stop."

He may have already crossed that line. But he must respect her request. He closes his eyes and nods, forcing his mind to review the programming code he wrote today. Anything to ease his desire.

"Goodnight, Spock," she says, rolling to turn her back toward him.

"Goodnight," he replies in a low, hoarse voice that he barely recognizes as his own.

He rests his hand on her hip, but leaves several inches of space between their bodies as he continues to mentally review and plan programming code.

Eventually, the sound of her breath achieves a slow, regular pace. She is asleep.

He withdraws his hand and rolls onto his back, certain that he will be unable to sleep. Yet, within minutes, he does.

When he wakes, he finds that Nyota has barely moved. Clearly, she is a deep sleeper. He slides out of bed and walks over to the computer console in his room. He has been asleep for more than four hours. There is just over two hours before Nyota must be on her shuttle.

He looks down at the peaceful expression on her slumbering face, and watches her chest slowly expanding and contracting with her breath. She is a living picture of the contentment he now feels.

He moves to his living room, and meditates for half an hour. Then, he prepares breakfast. When it is ready, he returns to the bedroom and gently wakes her.

She blinks sleepily up at him. "Is it morning already?"

"Yes. I have breakfast ready in the kitchen."

She smiles and follows him out. He has prepared tofu and whole grain noodles in a spicy broth, as well as a tall mug of green tea sweetened with honey.

"I know this is not your typical breakfast fare; however, it is all that I have. I will be certain to purchase food more to your tastes in the future."

"No. This is wonderful. It'll be perfect to wake me up. Thank you." She sits and drinks some tea before starting in on her bowl of noodle soup. She seems to enjoy it. He is pleased.

All too soon, she must leave to change her clothes and fetch her luggage before heading to the shuttleport.

He walks her to the door, and pulls her in for another kiss, memorizing the feel of her lips against his, the roundness of her hips, and the curve of her ears beneath his touch.

When the kiss ends she leans against his chest. "I wish I didn't have to leave."

"You must. Your meeting with your Klingon consultant is crucial for your thesis."

"I know. I know." She sighs. "I'll miss you."

"I will be very aware of your absence. However, we will be able to communicate via subspace."

"I only have the credits for text."

"It will suffice. After all, you will only be gone for thirteen days."

She grins. "So I guess this is the point where logic trumps sentiment."

"It seems so."

She laughs and hugs him. "Okay. Okay. I'll go now."

They kiss one last time before she exits. Once she is gone, Spock reflects on the extraordinary manner in which passed the night. Though he knows it was real, his memories posses a surreal quality much like a dream.

***

During Nyota's voyage to Denobula she sends him several messages every day. She describes the freighter and its crew with insightful humor. She relays the details of her personal combat training with Gaila, and describes the details of the information she hopes to glean from her Klingon consultant.

Spock finds that he does not posses the same natural ease in written communication that Nyota demonstrates. Nevertheless, he tries to make his brief replies as amusing and informative as possible. He hopes they are sufficient.

With each of her messages a picture of the future grows more fixed in his mind. It is a picture of living and working with Nyota for years to come aboard the _Enterprise._ He imagines being united in both body and spirit, living as partners, friends, and lovers. This mental picture brings him a level of inner peace and contentment that he never realized he was missing.

Once Nyota reaches Denobula her communications slow to one brief message on each of the three days of her stay. Each of those messages is filled with excitement over the progress of her work and promises to communicate at greater length once her meetings are complete.

After she boards the freighter home--a vessel of Earth origin named the _Kenai_--she finally describes at length the boisterous and fascinating personality of her Klingon consultant. She is pleased to report that he was of great benefit in correcting and clarifying dozens of translations.

Her messages continue to arrive regularly for the first three days of her five day voyage home. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, no message arrives. It has been ten long hours since her last message. Spock expected no messages during the night, however, this is the longest break she has yet taken in between messages.

Spock begins to worry. Another hour passes without word. Then another. And another.

He can wait no longer. He contacts Earth Space Traffic Control, and enquires after the _Kenai._

"Do you have family aboard, Commander?" asks the young Ensign on the other end of the comm line.

"No. A colleague is aboard. I was expecting to hear from her this morning, and grew concerned when I received no communication."

The Ensign's face grows worried. "Well, sir, I'm not supposed to tell you this yet because we haven't officially announced it, but . . . we lost contact with the _Kenai _seven hours ago after receiving a transmission that they were caught in a violent ion storm. We're in the middle of coordinating a search effort. In less than an hour we're going to officially report them as missing and feared lost. I'm sorry for the bad news, sir."

Spock feels frozen--numb. "Thank you for your assistance." He cuts off the communication.

Nyota is missing, and there is nothing he can do to help find her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: **As always I'm giving a huge thank you to all my readers who are sticking with this story, and offering me your encouragement and support. And to those of you who have been waiting with bated breath, I finally get to the M-rated content in this chapter. Plus, much thanks to my Beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter 9

_During the winter holiday of Cadet Uhura's second year at the academy, Spock flew with her to Mexico City to attend a jazz festival. At first, he saw the trip as a pleasing entertainment shared by friends, but by the end of their evening at the festival together, he had begun to think differently._

_All day there had been something about Uhura--her mannerisms, her relaxed humor, her intelligence, and her enthusiasm for life--that made him wonder for the first time if a Vulcan marriage would truly suit his character. His friendship with Uhura was so easy and comfortable, yet his attempts at friendship with other Vulcans--including T'Pring--had always been quite the opposite._

_After they returned to their hotel that night, Spock lay awake for a long time pondering his new doubts. And pondering his relationship with Uhura._

_Their hotel rooms were adjoining, separated only by a single wall and a locked door. Illogical though it seemed, sleeping so close to her was undeniably tantalizing. The way she looked out of uniform--the friendly closeness they had shared all day--had stirred up many unfamiliar longings within him. After much thought, he concluded that were he not betrothed to T'Pring, Uhura was exactly the kind of woman that he would consider pursuing romantically._

_The next morning over breakfast, conversation seemed stilted and tense. It was almost a relief when they parted ways at the shuttleport--she to head to her family home in Africa for the holiday, he to return to San Francisco._

_Spock concluded that it was his indulgence in speculative fantasizing about Cadet Uhura that had caused the tension between them. There was no logic in devoting mental energy to something that could never be. If he wanted to maintain his friendship with and mentorship of Uhura he would have to avoid further fantastical speculation. And, for the most part, he did. _

_Their friendship continued without further tension for the rest of the school year, and Spock gave little more thought to his attraction to Uhura. He successfully convinced himself that she was his TA, and his friend. Nothing more._

_One day in early May, as they lunched together at one of his favorite restaurants, they discussed her upcoming summer internship in Moscow. She expressed great excitement to experience a new climate and culture, and eagerness for her work with Starfleet Intelligence._

_As she spoke, Spock realized with a lurch in his stomach that he did not want her to leave. An illogical desire, to be certain. As her mentor it was his duty to ensure that she take advantage of opportunities that would help expand her knowledge and advance her career. The internship with Starfleet Intelligence fit both of those qualifications._

_Yet, the thought of being separated from her by such a vast distance was distinctly unpleasant._

_Spock attempted to quell his illogical displeasure by commenting positively on her choice of internships. "You were particularly wise to take on an internship outside of your area of specialty, as commanding officers prefer officers serving under them to be able to understand and appreciate multiple perspectives. Your choice of this internship will increase your likelihood of attaining your preferred posting."_

_She smiled. He was pleased that his statement made her happy._

_As they left the restaurant, he opened the door for her. "Cadet." He gestured that she should precede him._

_They walked back toward campus at a leisurely pace._

_"May I ask a personal question?" Uhura asked suddenly._

_Spock was instantly intrigued. "Yes, of course you may."_

_"We're friends, aren't we?"_

_His brows knit as he looked at her. "Yes. I thought that was clear."_

_"So did I. Which is why I've been wondering why we still call each other Cadet and Commander? Maybe it's time we start calling each other Spock and Nyota."_

_"You do not think such an action would be a breach of protocol?"_

_Uhura's__ smile thinned. "Our entire friendship is somewhat beyond the bounds of normal academy protocol. It seems illogical to hold onto protocol regarding how we refer to each other when we ignore it in most other ways."_

_Spock nodded. Her logic was sound. "Very well. You may refer to me by my name rather than my rank, and I will refer to you by your given name. However, it would be best to maintain the distinction of rank when engaged in public duties."_

_She nodded back. "That makes sense . . ." Her lips curled a little higher. ". . . Spock." _

_The corners of his own mouth twitched up. "Then we are in agreement, Nyota."_

_The gleam in her eyes at that moment reminded him how extremely disagreeable their separation over the summer would be._

***

His heart races, his breath comes in shallow gasps, and he feels as though he may vomit.

Nyota cannot be dead. It is unthinkable.

He takes several deep breaths to steady his nerves. Giving way to panic now will serve no purpose. He must think logically, and attempt to discern a course of action that will provide him with more information, and possibly a way to assist in the search.

Minutes later he contacts Earth Space Traffic Control again, this time personally requesting to speak to Lieutenant Commander Poonam Lahiri, his old friend from his academy days. She is in a sufficient position of authority to provide him with more detailed information.

She is pleasantly surprised to hear from him and seems poised to engage in a lengthy conversation until he brings up the purpose of his call.

"The _Kenai_? Do you know someone aboard?" she asks.

"Yes. A good friend is travelling aboard the _Kenai._ I greatly desire to gain news of her whereabouts and current health status. I was hoping you could provide me with assistance."

"Yes. Of course I can. Let me check the latest report."

He watches and Poonam looks away from her comm station to a nearby console.

"Okay," she says. "Here's the latest. Two science vessels and one mining vessel in the area are in the process of coordinating a grid pattern search, but the pace is slow because the ion storm hasn't completely dissipated yet. The storm is predicted to last another fifteen to eighteen hours, so a more intensive search won't be possible until then."

Her news does nothing to reassure him. He nods. "Thank you for your assistance. Would it be possible for you to provide me with updates as new information becomes available?"

Poonam smiles. "I can do better than that. I'll grant you temporary access to our instant status report system. That way you'll be able to track the progress on your own. I'll transmit the log on information right now."

A small spark of warmth helps calms Spock's anxiety. "I am very grateful."

"No problem. I'm glad to help."

***

For the first time in his Starfleet career, Spock takes a sick day.

He spends the entire day in front of his console tracking the updates. Most of the reports on the Earth Traffic Control system have nothing to do with the search for the _Kenai_, and he grows restless and agitated waiting for updates on the search to appear.

Yet, when the updates regarding the search _do _appear, they do nothing to relieve his anxiety. Thus far the searching ships have restricted themselves to the outskirts of the still-raging ion storm. Likewise, three ships are wholly inadequate for the extensive grid search necessary to locate the _Kenai._

After eight hours and twelve minutes Spock's anxious frustration is finally too much for him. Another report of another empty grid section elicits a cry of anger. He rises to his feet and paces his apartment furiously. Why are no more ships being assigned to the search? Why are the ships that are assigned moving so slowly?

He knows the logical answers to his questions, but at the moment logic seems secondary to the imperative of finding Nyota and bringing her home.

He must get out of the apartment and away from the maddening updates. He needs a break.

Spock takes a brisk walk off campus into a nearby shopping district. Once he is surrounded by crowds of carefree shoppers, ambling through the district in small bunches of friends, he sees that his choice of direction was poorly chosen.

It angers him to see so many light-heartened people, content in their ignorance of the lives at stake so far away. Their happiness seems almost an insult to his distress.

He returns to his apartment and forces himself to eat a swift meal of instant noodles before returning to his console. Finally, he checks the updates again.

One of the search vessels has found a small debris field. They searchers are conducting an analysis to determine if the debris is the remains of the _Kenai._

Spock feels a sudden churning in his stomach and rushes to his bathroom where he vomits his entire meal into the toilet.

He rinses his mouth in the sink, and slides to the floor, shaking. He feels utterly incapable of dealing with the violent emotions that are erupting inside of him.

After several moments he calms himself enough to return to the console. There is a new report--the debris is Orion in origin. It is not the _Kenai._

He sinks into his chair with relief. The _Kenai _may yet be intact. Nyota may yet be alive.

For a moment, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to compose himself. Then, on impulse, he reaches for his console controls and initiates a subspace communication to the only person he can talk to about what he is experiencing--his mother.

Unfortunately, it is Sarek who answers the call.

Sarek raises an eyebrow. "You have placed your call at a most inconvenient hour. It is not yet dawn."

"I am aware of the time in Shi'Kahr, father. However, I have a matter of some urgency which I must discuss with mother."

"Your mother is still sleeping. It would be inconsiderate of me to wake her. However, I will inform her of your need to speak to her as soon as she rises."

Spock's frustration is mounting by the moment. "Forgive me, but I must speak to her now."

Sarek's brows knit and the corners of his mouth twitch down. "You are fortunate. I hear her stirring. I will transfer your call to her study."

The screen blanked to a soft gray while it was placed on hold. Spock waited with steadily decreasing patience for three minutes and twenty-two seconds. At last the screen lit up with the image of his slightly disheveled mother.

Her eyes widen. "Spock--what's wrong?"

"I--" Now that he finally has the chance to speak to someone who will understand, he has no idea what to say. "Nyota . . . she is missing."

"Missing?"

Why can he not formulate a coherent explanation? He takes a deep breath to pull himself together. "She is on a freighter, returning to Earth after a research trip to Denobula. The freighter has gone missing in an ion storm."

"Oh my God." Spock sees it in her eyes--she does understand. "Is there a search under way?"

"Yes. Three ships have been searching the area for more than nine hours with no result."

His mother's features harden. "Transmit the last known coordinates of the ship to me, and the names of the vessels conducting the search. I'm going to pull on all my contacts--and your father's--to see if there are any Vulcan vessels that can join the search. In this day and age no Federation citizen should be left to die in the black of space."

Spock winces at the prospect of Nyota facing such a purposeless death. "Nyota is a Starfleet officer. She was aware of the dangers before she enlisted."

Amanda frowns. "You're not giving up, are you?"

"With every passing hour the odds of locating the ship intact with survivors aboard decrease substantially."

"Listen to me, Spock--when the life of someone you care about is at stake, the last thing you should ever, _ever_ do is calculate the odds. And you _do_ care about Nyota very deeply, don't you?"

His voice comes out raspy and broken. "Yes. More than any other friend I have ever had."

"Then keep on hoping. And keep on fighting. Right until the end--beyond the end if you have to."

He ignores the obvious flaws in her assertion and nods in assent. In one thing at least she is correct--it is far too early to give up hope.

"Now," she says, "I'm going to start calling everyone I know who owes me a favor and see if I can't get another ship or three out there to help with the search."

"I will transmit the necessary information."

"Good." She nods briskly, but then her features soften. "Don't hesitate to call me again, any time of night or day. And if you need me to hop on a transport and come to Earth to be with you, I'll be there in less than a day."

"Thank you, but your presence is unnecessary."

"Well, let me know if it _becomes_ necessary. Okay?"

"I will."

"And Spock," she adds, "I'll be praying for her."

Amanda rarely speaks of the religion of her youth, but Spock finds her promise of prayer more comforting than anything else she has said. "Thank you, mother."

After the communication ends, Spock finds that he now has the stamina to keep up his vigil. He logs back into the Space Traffic Control system, and begins reading the latest reports.

***

After two hours and fifty-six more minutes of searching, one of the search vessels reports that it has picked up a sub-space distress call from the _Kenai._ It is badly damaged, but still intact.

When Spock reads the report he leaps out of his seat, a smile involuntarily forming on his face. He takes several calming breaths and reminds himself that there may be many casualties--he must still be prepared for the worst.

Forty-three minutes later a new report is issued--all hands have been evacuated from the _Kenai._ There are three dead. Of the thirty-six survivors, seventeen are injured.

Spock paces his living room, his mind turning in circles. The odds are high that Nyota is among the living, but equally high that she is among the injured.

He continues to glance at his console, but though a report about the attempt to recover the _Kenai _with tractor beams is posted, there is nothing further about the casualties.

After sixteen minutes of waiting, Spock loses his patience. He calls Space Traffic Control. His friend, Poonam, is off-duty, so he decides that the most effective way to obtain the information he seeks is to pull rank.

As expected, an Ensign is taking the incoming calls.

"I am Commander Spock of Starfleet Academy. Two of my subordinates were aboard the freighter _Kenai._ I require you to inform me regarding their status."

The Ensign blinks in surprise. "Yes, sir," he says. "Give me their names and I'll look it up for you."

"Cadets Nyota Uhura and Gaila Falan-Raz."

The Ensign punches some commands into his console. "All right, sir. Here it is--Cadet Falan-Raz is being treated for minor injuries. Cadet Uhura is listed as being in critical but stable condition. They'll reach Spacedock in two hours, at which point Cadet Uhura will be taken to the Spacedock hospital for surgery."

Spock feels another stab of fear at the words "critical condition" and "surgery." He thanks the Ensign for the information, and cuts off the transmission.

The next two hours are unbearably long. He paces his apartment restlessly with no source of relief.

Spacedock and Starfleet Academy have a permanent network link, and, after the two hours have passed, Spock utilizes his clearance codes to log into the Spacedock hospital system.

Nyota is already in surgery. All he can do now is wait.

His console chimes to indicate an incoming call. He answers eagerly.

It is Poonam Lahiri. "Did you get the good news about the _Kenai_?" she asks.

"Yes," he says, grateful for her concern.

"It's amazing, really. Did you hear about the cadets?"

Spock raises an eyebrow. "What about the cadets?"

"It's a great story. Apparently two academy cadets were onboard. The ion storm destroyed the subspace communication system and the main computers. But the two cadets are specialists in communications and computers. So one of them went to work getting the computers back online while the other one rebuilt the subspace communication system from scratch. And get this--the communications expert was injured in an explosion during the storm. But she didn't let it stop her. They say she worked for eight hours straight with a piece of shrapnel lodged in her side." Poonam smiles and shakes her head. "I guess all the other survivors are calling them heroes."

Spock's eyes are wide. It does not surprise him that Nyota and Cadet Falan-Raz would take on the task of repairing the necessary components of the damaged ship--but to work with a shrapnel injury? Had she done herself permanent harm?

Poonam's eyes narrow as she watches him through her console. "You know them, don't you? They were the friends you were worried about."

He nods. "Cadet Uhura has been my teaching assistant for two years."

"She's the one with the shrapnel injury. Is she all right?"

"I do not know. She is in surgery."

Poonam's expression softens. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Spacedock has excellent medical facilities."

Spock knows that her assessment is likely correct, but that knowledge does little to dissipate his fear.

"I shouldn't be surprised that she's your assistant," says Poonam. "I know you'd only work with the best. You should be proud of her. She saved more than thirty lives."

"I am proud. It seems that her performance in the face of danger was exemplary." Spock cannot help but wonder if he would have performed as well under similar circumstances. He is more convinced than ever that Nyota is a truly extraordinary woman.

***

A wave of relief washes over Spock when Nyota's status on the hospital system is updated to "in recovery."

He contacts the hospital directly, and is informed that the surgery was completely successful. Nyota is being held for thirty-six hours of recovery, and is expected to be fit for duty in seventy-two hours. She will be ready for visitors in four hours.

A sense of lightness fills him. Though he has not eaten or rested in hours, he has rarely felt so elated.

He calls his mother.

"I heard they were rescued," she says as soon as she answers the call. "Is Nyota injured?"

Spock nods and relays the information he recently received from Poonam and the Spacedock hospital.

"That's wonderful news, Spock. Have you spoken to her yet?"

"No. She was transferred to surgery as soon as she arrived at Spacedock."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

He raises his eyebrows. "What?"

"Why aren't you on a shuttle to Spacedock right now instead of wasting your time talking to me? You want to see her, don't you?"

His mother's attitude takes him by surprise. "Yes. Very much."

"So go. Be with her."

He nods. "That is an excellent suggestion."

She smiles. "I know."

***

One hour and seven minutes later, Spock steps off of his shuttle at Spacedock and heads directly toward the hospital. On the flight up he accessed a map of the facility, and located the surgical recovery area. He knows exactly where to go.

As he rounds a corner to enter the corridor of recovery rooms, he sees a familiar green face--it is Cadet Falan-Raz.

"Commander Spock!" She leaps from her chair in the waiting area and strides toward him with a broad grin on her face. "I'm so happy to see you. I knew you would come. I told Nyota you would, but she said you wouldn't. She said that you would be sensible and avoid drawing unnecessary scrutiny to your relationship. But I told her that you were way too head over heels with her to be sensible at a time like this. I'm glad I was right."

Her frank characterization of his relationship with Nyota leaves him somewhat flustered, but he manages to ask, "Is she well?"

"Oh, she's great. Those doctors patched her up so well there'll barely be a scar. You should have seen her." Cadet Falan-Raz waves her hands in front of her in dramatic emphasis. "She was laying there with her hands in the communications station piecing together scrap metal into a working transmitter and barking out orders at the three civilians helping her, all the time with this jagged shard of metal jutting out of her side." She holds her hands at her side as if she gripped something sticking out of it. "She was awesome."

Spock's nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, trying to staunch a new wave of nausea.

Cadet Falan-Raz must see his discomfort in his face, for she waves her hands in front of her again. "Oh--you don't need to worry anymore. Like I said, she's totally fine."

"I am pleased to hear it."

"Yeah, I bet you are." She grins again.

"Is she ready for visitors?"

The cadet edges closer to him and mutters conspiratorially. "She's supposed to be resting, but I've already been in there three times. That girl of yours is insane. She insisted I bring her our PADDS from the interviews on Denobula so that she can make sure there was no data corruption during the ion storm. I told her they were fine, but she just _had _to see them for herself."

The corner of Spock's mouth turns up slightly. If Nyota is well enough to work so soon after her surgery, her prognosis must be very good.

Cadet Falan-Raz glances around. "Okay, there's no nurses around right now. I can get you in."

She leads him to a nearby recovery room. "Go on in. She'll be thrilled."

Spock nods, and pushes the button to open the door, his heart pounding.

Nyota sits in a hospital bed, wearing only a hospital gown. She is propped up by several pillows, with a pile of PADDs on her lap. She looks up from one of the PADDs as the door opens, her eyes widening as she sees him.

He steps inside, the door swishing closed behind him.

Her hair is damp and stringy and her skin tone is decidedly unhealthy, but the feature which most draws Spock's attention is the grin slowly spreading across her face.

"You came."

"I could not stay away." He strides across the room and leans over her, pulling her into his arms. He kisses her with an intensity he could not have imagined two weeks ago--tasting her--devouring her.

He sits down on the bed beside her, pulling her even closer as PADDs clatter to the ground. Her fingers twine through his hair, and he can perceive her relief and joy through their touch.

She pulls back, panting, and rests her forehead against his cheek.

"Am I hurting you?" he asks, remembering as if for the first time that she only just had surgery.

"No." He hears the smile in her voice. "They've pumped me so full of painkillers that I'm practically floating."

She leans into him, tightening her embrace. He can feel moisture leaking from her eye against his cheek. He focuses his mind, and her thoughts become almost tangible.

She is remembering. She is reliving her pain and her fear.

"I was also afraid," he whispers. "More afraid than I have ever been."

Her voice trembles as she replies. "I kept telling myself that no matter how scared I got and no matter how much I hurt, I needed to keep working. I needed to bring us home. I have too much to live for."

The power of her emotions surges through him, stirring him in ways he cannot hope to comprehend.

He kisses her again, pulling her in. He feels for the first time how fragile she is--how easily his strength could overwhelm her. Yet she trusts him not to harm her. He knows her thoughts--knows that she is ready and willing to give herself to him completely.

For the first time in his life he has found the place he truly belongs. It makes him dizzy. The haze of lust once more fills his mind, banishing all rational thought.

He cups her face in his hands, pulling her deeper.

She breaks the kiss by turning her face, and he continues moving his lips against her cheek.

"Take off your boots," she murmurs.

He pulls back in confusion.

She smiles up at him. "Take off your boots. Lie with me."

He hastens to his feet, the corners of his mouth curving up higher than they ever have in the company of a being besides his mother. He bends over and quickly removes his boots as Nyota kicks back her blanket and slides to lay flat on the bed.

His mind is a blur as he climbs back onto the bed beside her. She reaches up to pull him down into her kiss as their legs tangle together. As they kiss she slides her hands down his chest and unfastens his uniform jacket, pulling it open.

He raises himself enough for her to push it off of his shoulders, and he completes the task by sliding it off of his arms and tossing it to the floor, revealing the plain gray t-shirt beneath.

Their lips are only parted for a few seconds before he lowers himself for another kiss. He feels her arousal in his mind, and it mingles with his own lust, intensifying his hunger for her.

He is hard and throbbing. The longing to immerse himself in her fills him. He wants to feel her--to taste her--to know every centimeter of her body.

His hands roam her body freely. He slides his fingers up her thigh, pushing her hospital gown higher. Her gasps of pleasure urge him onward, and he can feel how his touch excites her.

He runs his hand up her body to cup her breast, and begins rubbing the hard nub of her nipple with his thumb through her gown as he trails kisses down her neck. A moan escapes her throat. He tastes her sweat, and the scent of her skin fills his nose.

He lowers his mouth to her other breast, running his teeth over her nipple. She gasps and writhes beneath him, pressing her pelvis up against his arousal. He takes her nipple in his mouth again, and again she thrusts against him. They moan together, and he begins grabbing at the hospital gown. He needs to get it out of the way. He wants to taste her skin.

"Good for you, Commander Spock!" says a bright voice from behind him. "I didn't think you had it in you."

He sits up straight with extraordinary speed, gasping for breath.

"Damn it, Gaila," says Nyota, propping herself on her elbows. "Don't you chime?"

Cadet Falan-Raz grins broadly, seeming to fight to hold back laughter. "This way is funner. I could smell the action in here from down the hall and I just _had _to see what was going on."

"You are so dead!" Nyota tosses a pillow at her roommate, who easily dodges it.

"You won't think that way after I tell you why I really came here," says Falan-Raz.

Spock continues to sit, breathing heavily, on the side of the bed. The haze is clearing his mind, but it is still difficult to focus on what the two women are saying. Until Cadet Falan-Raz's next statement clears his head completely.

"Your parents are here," she tells Nyota.

Nyota's mouth hangs open. "No."

Falan-Raz nods. "Oh, yes. I managed to stall them by getting your doctor to talk to them, but that won't last long. I'd say you two lovebirds have less than four minutes to make yourselves presentable."

Spock springs into action instantly, jumping to his feet and collecting his jacket from the floor. As he pulls on his jacket and boots, Falan-Raz helps Nyota to pull her hospital gown back over her legs, lean back against a new stack of pillows, and pull the blanket back up.

Spock finishes straightening his jacket and smoothing his hair as Falan-Raz picks up the scattered PADDs and Nyota tidies her own hair. As Falan-Raz sets the last of the PADDs on the side table, she catches his gaze. "You're welcome," she says.

"Thank you, Cadet, for your assistance."

He glances down at Nyota for the first time since leaving the bed. He is still highly aroused, and merely the sight of her speeds the rate of his heart. Yet, even through his lust, he sees how imprudent and ill-advised this encounter has been. What would have happened if Nyota's family or one of the hospital staff had come through the door in Falan-Raz's place?

He must learn to gain greater control of his desire. He cannot make this mistake again.

"Yes. Thank you so much, Gaila," says Nyota. "I don't know what my parents would have done if they'd found me like that with my boss, but it wouldn't have been good."

Spock clears his throat. "Technically, I am no longer your boss. Captain Varik and Cadet Elliot have both agreed to my proposed Teaching Assistant exchange."

"Well," says Falan-Raz, "that makes it all right then."

Nyota rolls her eyes and Spock clenches his jaw.

The door slides open, and a doctor leads Nyota's parents into the room.

Mrs. Uhura gives a wordless cry and runs to take her daughter in her arms. Mr. Uhura walks in more slowly, a tentative smile on his face.

Spock backs away from the bed, giving the family space for their reunion. He suddenly feels completely out of place. He should not be here.

"Mom, Dad," says Nyota suddenly. "I want you to meet my friend, Commander Spock."

Mr. and Mrs. Uhura turn to look at them. He straightens out, clasps his hands behind his back, and bows. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"So good to meet you," says Mr. Uhura.

"Nyota has told us so much about you," adds Mrs. Uhura.

Spock cannot help but think that no matter what she has told them about him, she must have concealed much more.

After another two minutes of uncomfortable small talk, Spock excuses himself. "Now that I am reassured of Nyota's well-being, I must return to my duties at the academy."

Mr. and Mrs. Uhura thank him again for coming to check on Nyota. Spock turns his gaze to Nyota, and nods. "I will see you soon."

She smiles up at him. "Yes, you will."

"I think I'll leave you, too," says Falan-Raz. "You guys need some family time."

After a final goodbye, Spock and Falan-Raz leave the room together.

As they head down the hall, she leans toward him and speaks softly. "Don't worry. I don't think they noticed your little . . ." She points toward his trousers. ". . . condition there. Or not so little. Thank God for black uniforms, right?"

Spock halts, wondering just how much Nyota has confided in her friend. "Cadet--may I count on your discretion regarding my relationship with Nyota?"

"Don't worry, Commander." Falan-Raz folds her arms. "I completely agree with you that the anti-fraternization rules at the academy are completely backwards. I won't mention anything to anyone. I promise."

"Thank you." Spock nods.

Spock hopes to avoid further conversation with Cadet Falan-Raz. Unfortunately, she insists upon sitting beside him on the shuttle flight back to the academy. He is able to keep the conversation largely focused on her thesis and recent research, and is vastly relieved when they finally disembark the shuttle. It is already late in the evening, and Spock returns directly to his apartment.

As he attempts to meditate, his communication console chimes.

He is quick to answer, and his hope is realized--it is Nyota.

Her smile quickens his desire once more.

"I'm sorry about the little interruption today," she says.

"You were not at fault; therefore, you have no cause to apologize."

"I'm not apologizing. I just feel really sorry that we didn't get a chance to finish what we started."

Spock's breath comes faster, and already he feels the haze of lust once more intruding upon his mind. "So do I."

They simply stare at each other for most of a minute.

At last Nyota breaks the silence. "Okay. I guess I should get some sleep now."

"Yes. Your physical well-being is the primary concern at this time."

"I'll see you soon."

He nods, his mind already swirling with thoughts of what might occur when they meet again.

"Good night," she says, and ends the transmission.

Spock again attempts to meditate with no success--his mind is too full of thoughts of Nyota. Though he is exhausted, he lies awake almost until dawn before finally falling asleep. Yet, even in his dreams, Nyota finds him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes: **I am continually grateful for my loyal readers and all your fun and encouraging comments. Thank you. And thanks as ever to my beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter 10

_The morning after T'Pring granted Spock permission to date Human women, he discussed the new development with his mother._

_She agreed that an experiment in Human dating was a logical way to determine whether he was more suited for a Human or a Vulcan marriage. However, she disagreed with him on which women he should try dating._

_"I do not think dating a colleague or a friend would be wise," Spock insisted. "Such a change in the dynamics of an existing relationship could undermine our friendship or disrupt our ability to work together. This experiment will be sufficiently unsettling already without introducing that kind of chaotic fluctuation into my daily life."_

_Amanda frowned, and folded her arms in front of her. "You're looking at this completely backwards. You're being too scientific about it--focusing on controlling all the variables in play instead of acknowledging that romance is anything but scientific."_

_Spock tightened his jaw. "Mother--"_

_"Don't ignore my advice, Spock. I'm inclined to think I know a good deal more about Human romance than you do."_

_"Very well," he sat even more stiffly on his stool. "Please explain to me why you believe I should date someone I already know."_

_Amanda leaned back into her more comfortably padded chair. "Because you're not Human. And you never will be. Dating complete strangers might work very well for Human men, but it will not work for you."_

_Spock raised an eyebrow incredulously, but continued to listen._

_"If you're anything like your father," said Amanda, "and I know you are, then your best bet at forming a meaningful Human romance will be with someone you already trust. Trust is the key to any successful romantic relationship, and Vulcans are disinclined to trust strangers."_

_This much Spock could not deny. It took him a very long time to fully trust the people around him. And he imagined it would take even longer to achieve a level of trust sufficient to share his personal life or to engage in physical intimacies._

_"Also," added Amanda, "it will be easier for someone you know to accept you. Because she'll already be aware of your non-Human mannerisms. She won't misunderstand you the way a stranger might."_

_"Your points are valid," Spock finally said. "However, the prospect of a romantic relationship with any of the women of my current acquaintance is of no interest to me. I am attracted to none of them."_

_Amanda raised her eyebrows. "Now, that's not entirely true, is it? I remember you speaking very highly of your friend Nyota."_

_Spock clenched his jaw. The last person he wanted to discuss with his mother at that moment was Nyota. "A romantic relationship with Cadet Uhura would violate the Academy Code of Conduct."_

_A slow smile curled into place on Amanda's face. "So you don't deny that you're attracted to her?"_

_He looked away from his mother's gaze. "No. I cannot deny it. She is attractive in many ways. However, as I expressed, a romantic relationship with her would be impossible."_

_"Not impossible. Just in violation of the rules." Amanda leaned forward, resting her arms in her lap. "Have you ever considered the possibility that some rules are better off broken?"_

_"No." He looked at her sharply._

_"Well, maybe you should start thinking about it. If she's really such an attractive young woman she'll have lots of opportunities for romance. She won't wait for you forever."_

_Spock shook his head. "She is already dating someone."_

_"Is it serious?"_

_"I do not know." He looked down at his hands in his lap, remembering with sudden clarity how greatly he desired to ram his fist into Cedric's face._

_"Try asking her."_

_He looked back up at his mother. "Are you suggesting that I attempt to break up her relationship in order to pursue her myself?"_

_"Only if it's not serious."_

_Spock rose to his feet. "Such a suggestion should be beneath you, Mother."_

_She shrugged, still smiling. "I'm afraid it's not. I'm only Human, after all."_

_The remainder of their discussion proved equally futile, and Spock soon retired to the garden even more troubled than he had been before speaking to her._

***

Spock returns to work early the day after Nyota's safe rescue. His staff and colleagues all express concern over his absence, but he is quick to reassure them that he is perfectly well. Late in the morning he attends a pre-semester staff meeting for the linguistics department.

Before the usual business of the meeting commences, Commodore Ripley rises to her feet, her titanium gray hair smoothed back into a tight twist. "I trust by now most of you have heard at least a little something about what one of our Teaching Assistants has been up to the past few days, but in case you haven't, let me fill you in on the latest adventures of Cadet Uhura."

She proceeds to relate the story of Nyota's heroic actions aboard the _Kenai._ "Needless to say," concludes Commodore Ripley, "Cadet Uhura and her thesis partner Cadet Falan-Raz have both been recommended for special commendations. I spoke to Cadet Uhura this morning, and am pleased to report that she is recovering well from her injury. I congratulated her on her fine work under pressure, and I suggest you all do the same when you see her. She represented our department and the academy with great distinction."

Spock feels great pride and satisfaction. Nyota has earned this praise.

From that point the business of the meeting continues as usual. Only one discussion topic catches Spock off guard.

"Commander Spock, Captain Varik," says Commodore Ripley, looking directly at Spock, "I understand you two are swapping TAs this year. May I ask why?"

Spock is grateful when Captain Varik answers first. "We both agreed that after two years of serving under us, it would be good for our TAs to learn to cope with a different command style and different leadership techniques. We wouldn't want our best cadets getting stuck in ruts, would we?"

The wrinkles around Commodore Ripley's eyes deepen as she smiles. "No, we most certainly would not."

No further mention of Nyota is made during the meeting. However, Commodore Ripley draws Spock aside after the meeting concludes. "Was Cadet Uhura looking well when you went to see her?"

He nods. "Very well. Just a few hours after surgery she was already sitting up to study the research notes for her thesis. I expect she will be fully recovered within twenty-four hours."

The commodore nods slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "That's good to hear. Carry on, Commander."

It is only after Spock leaves the room that he begins to wonder how Commodore Ripley knew he had visited Nyota--or whether she had really known at all.

***

Early in the afternoon Spock is pleased to receive a call from Nyota. Her skin tone already looks much healthier.

"I wanted to talk about what happened last night," she says.

He, too, has been eager to discuss what passed between them. He never intended to initiate sexual intimacy so early in their relationship, but now that they have come to that line and very nearly crossed it, he has begun to reconsider. When both partners are willing and eager to consummate the relationship, is it really logical to delay that consummation solely as a matter of principle? Now that he has chosen to pursue a serious Human relationship, should he not act as a Human would act in his situation?

"What I wanted to tell you," she continues, "is that the drugs they gave me had some . . . interesting side-effects."

This puzzles Spock. He knits his brows. "Do you mean to imply that your behavior toward me was merely a reaction to drugs?"

Her eyes widen and she raises a hand in front of her. "No! No. That's not what I meant. At least, not entirely."

Spock is pleased to hear that her passion and desire were more than mere drug-induced behaviors. "Would you please clarify the situation for me? I believed that we acted together out of gratitude for your well-being and mutual feelings of sexual attraction. Am I mistaken?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "No. You aren't mistaken. I felt the same way you did. But, the drugs did . . . reduce my inhibitions. They impaired my judgment." Her face grows more serious. "I feel like I pressured you into actions that you wouldn't have chosen if I hadn't wanted it so much. And I don't want our relationship to be like that. I respect your culture and your beliefs. You need to believe that I would never expect you to violate those beliefs just to satisfy my libido."

Now Spock understands, and the corner of his mouth twitches up. "I felt no pressure to meet your expectations. Let me assure you, I needed no drugs to lower my inhibitions. They vanished of their own accord."

Nyota laughs--a sound as beautiful as fine music to his ears. "I'm glad to hear it. And I promise--I won't ever pressure you to do something you're not ready to do. I'm putting the pace of this relationship in your hands. We'll go however fast or slow you choose."

"Thank you, Nyota. And do not trouble yourself further. You have done nothing wrong." His lips twitch even higher. "I am very eager for your return."

"So am I."

***

Late that evening, Spock sits in his living room meditating. The lights are dimmed, and several candles are lit. He wears his usual attire for evening meditation--comfortable, loose-fitting pajamas of tan colored cotton.

Over the course of the day he has given much thought to Nyota's declaration that he shall be the one to determine the pace of their physical relationship. His desires are in favor of a speedy consummation; however, he remembers her counsel from earlier in the summer regarding sexual relationships. She warned him not to be overly hasty--that sex could dramatically impact a relationship and a person's own self-image. However, he has known Nyota for almost four years, and been friends with her for more than two. Surely her advice was only in reference to women he had not known prior to dating them.

He tries to drive that emotionally laden inner debate from his mind as he meditates. It is time to refocus his mind. To re-stabilize his emotional control after the tumultuous events of the previous several days.

Such is not to be the case. He is interrupted early in his meditation by his door chime. He opens his eyes and rises from where he knelt on the floor to answer the door personally.

"Surprise," says Nyota with a grin on her face as the door slides open to reveal her standing in the corridor.

He backs away from the door to allow her to enter. His heart rate is already increasing. "I was not expecting your release until tomorrow afternoon."

"I talked them into letting me go early. I can be very persuasive." She wears her uniform, but her hair is loose and softly curled at the ends. He smells his favorite sandalwood perfume on her skin, and her earrings are composed of several long strands of pale blue crystalline beads that dance invitingly in the candlelight.

"I am very well aware of your persuasiveness," he says, moving in to rest his hands on her hips as he places a soft kiss on her mouth.

After their lips part she fingers the hair at the back of his neck and smiles up at him. "Did I interrupt your meditation?"

"Yes. But the interruption is not unwelcome. However, I am concerned about your early release. Are you fully recovered?"

"Close enough," she replies, sliding her hands down his arms to take his hands. "I still can't return to duty until the day after tomorrow. But I already feel almost normal."

They sit side by side on his sofa. She leans against him and they continue to hold hands as they talk. For the first time she rehearses to him in full the details of her ordeal aboard the _Kenai_, and he can sense the fluctuations of her remembered emotions through her hands as she talks. He begins to suspect that she endured her difficulties with greater fortitude than he did. Like his mother, Nyota hides great strength within her slender frame.

Nyota finishes her tale with her time in the hospital. "It was great seeing my parents. I really don't see them often enough. But I still wish they hadn't come right when they did. I wasn't ready for you to leave yet."

"I am here now. There is no one who can interrupt us." He raises his hand to the side of her face. She looks more beautiful than ever in the soft glow of candlelight.

"That's exactly what I was hoping for," she replies.

Spock pulls her closer, kissing her tenderly. Once again, she responds with eager passion, opening her mind to his as they embrace. The wave of emotion he feels from her elates him. He never imagined she could feel so much for him. It is the greatest gift anyone has ever given him.

Their kiss deepens as her emotions fill him, elevating his desire. She breaks the kiss just long enough to shift her body--she sits on his lap, straddling him with her skirt hiking up high on her thighs.

He pulls her in for another kiss with one hand as his other hand caresses her breasts. She pulls down the zipper of her uniform jacket and shrugs out of it, tossing it to the floor. Her movements grind her body into his lap, pressing her pelvis against his hard erection.

He lowers his mouth to her neck, kissing and tasting the smooth skin of her graceful curves. Now she tugs at the hem of her shirt and leans back from him to pull it off over her head.

The thin white lace of her bra reveals as much as it conceals, and he dips his head, his tongue eagerly lapping at her nipples as her hands wind back around his shoulders. He moves his hands to slide the bra straps off of her shoulders.

Suddenly her body tenses, and she moves her hands to his chest, gently pushing him back.

"Oh, God," she mutters. "I'm doing it again."

He raises his head to meet her eyes. "What is wrong?"

She strokes his cheeks and shakes her head. "I'm pressuring you again--pushing you too fast. You don't have to do this. I'm sorry."

She moves to pull away from him. Quickly he stops her, wrapping one arm firmly behind her back and gently cupping the side of her face in his other hand. "Nyota. I want to have sexual relations with you. Now."

She catches her breath in a sharp gasp. "Are you sure you're ready?"

He nods. "Yes. Please." His voice comes out in a low, hungry rasp.

She stares at him for a moment. "Okay," she whispers. He pulls her into another kiss.

He makes no further attempts to restrain his rising passion, pulling her forward into his lap to grind her against his erection. Her hands slide under his shirt, and he temporarily raises his arms, allowing her to pull it off over his head.

She runs her fingers up his chest, weaving them through his hair before running them over his sides and up his back as if she hopes to feel every centimeter of his flesh. The haze of lust now completely fills his mind as the feel of her skin against his bare flesh enflames him and her feelings of arousal mingle with his own.

In a single swift movement his slides his hands beneath her rear and stands, lifting her into the air. She yelps in surprise, but then wraps her arms and legs all the tighter around him as he carries her to the bedroom.

She feels so very light in his arms.

He lowers her to the bed, and she lies back, smiling up at him.

With deliberate slowness his lifts one of her legs, unzips her boot, and smoothly pulls it off. It drops to the floor with a thud. He raises her other leg to repeat the maneuver. This time, after dropping the boot he continues to hold her leg aloft, and kisses her inner ankle.

She giggles, grinning.

He kisses her again, now on the inner calf. And again just above the knee. Slowly he leans forward to trail kisses down her inner thigh as she gasps in pleasure.

Finally he lowers her leg, running his hands up both her thighs toward her center. He ignores her skirt, which is now hitched up around her waist, and instead hooks his fingers inside the band of her lace panties, and pulls.

She raises her pelvis as he slides the panties off of her hips and buttocks, and then raises her legs to let him finish the job.

All the while his breath comes faster and faster. He feels hot--almost feverish. His whole body trembles with his need for her.

He climbs over her now, resting between her legs as he recaptures her mouth with his kiss. He feels her need. She wants him as much as he wants her.

She pushes his pants down past his hips, freeing him, and he shudders as she touches him. Her desire is overwhelming. He must give her what she wants. He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth as she guides him forward.

With a cry of ecstasy he thrusts once, and again. His whole body spasms, his arms going stiff, his teeth clenching down, his entire core shaking.

And then it is over. The blinding haze drains away from his mind, and he reawakens as if from a stupor.

He pushes up to look down at her where she lies panting beneath him. Her feelings are still intertwined with his own. She feels . . . disappointment.

He has disappointed her.

With a twisting lurch in his stomach he rolls off of her to sit on the side of the bed. He cannot meet her eyes.

He hunches forward, his elbows resting on his legs. "I am sorry. It seems my stamina was insufficient to fully satisfy you. I apologize."

"No. Spock," she sits and slides to the edge of the bed beside him. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I felt your disappointment."

"That only lasted for a split second. I can't always control my emotions." She sighs, and reaches around his front to place a hand on his farther cheek. "Look at me, Spock." She firmly turns his face toward her.

He meets her eyes.

"Okay," she says. "I admit it. I was expecting something of a slightly longer duration. But that doesn't mean I'm disappointed in you. I've been with a virgin once before and his duration was about the same as yours. From what I understand this is a pretty common problem with inexperienced men. I don't blame you for that. It's normal. It's expected. And the good news is this is a problem that goes away with practice. I'm not unhappy. I'm with you. We're together. That's all I really care about."

Her words begin to reassure him, though he still feels displeased with himself for being unable to provide Nyota with sexual satisfaction. He leans into the touch of her hand against his cheek, feeling her support and encouragement. She smiles at him, and he notices for the first time a few drops of blood welling under her lip.

His eyes widen in shock and he pulls back from her, staring at the blood. Her smile fades.

"What's wrong?"

"I have harmed you." He almost chokes on the words, a swelling of guilt and shame rising inside of him. "Clearly I was not truly ready for this level of physical intimacy. I allowed my lust for you to overcome my logical reasoning." He stands, pulling up his pants. "You should go seek medical attention."

She rises to her feet, smoothing down her skirt. "No, no, no. You need to calm down. If your logical reasoning has been questionable at all tonight, it's right now. I do _not_ need medical attention for a tiny little cut, and I am _not _leaving you here alone to wallow in guilt when what we really need to do is talk about what happened like reasonable adults. So here's what we're going to do. We're going to clean up, and get dressed. And then we're going to make some tea, and sit down and have a nice talk. Okay?"

He nods in assent. She is correct. He needs to calm his emotions before discussing what has occurred.

***

Fifteen minutes later they once more sit on his sofa, the candles now extinguished and the lights switched on. Two mugs of steaming tea sit on the table beside them.

They have both washed up and dressed. A small scab has already formed just below Nyota's lower lip.

Spock looks at her in silence, unsure of what to say first.

"Okay," she finally says. "Let's get this out of the way first so we can move on to more important things." She points at the scab under her lip. "Yes. You bit me when you climaxed. No, it is not a big deal. Thirty seconds with a dermal regenerator and I'll be good as new. So, here's the question--did you intentionally harm me?"

His eyes go wide. "No. I would never intentionally harm you in any way."

"Which is exactly what I thought. You were overwhelmed by the experience, and this little bite was a complete accident. I forgive you. I trust you. So can you please drop the guilt over this little tiny thing?"

He nods, doing his best to banish the final traces of guilt from his mind. "I can."

"Good. Now, as for everything else . . ." She runs her eyes over his face. "You said you might not have been ready for this step after all. I don't know whether or not you were right, but in either case we've already taken the step. We can't go back. So the real question is--what do we do now?"

"I do not know," he says. "I believe it would be prudent if I spend more time strengthening my emotional and telepathic control prior to a second such encounter. I allowed myself to feel your emotions, and that combined with my own lack of emotional control led to my . . . to the less than satisfactory outcome."

She nods. "Okay. So what would that entail? More meditation? Or something else? I hope you don't plan on asking me to stay away from you, because that's one request I don't think I can honor." The corners of her mouth quirk up, and he is pleased to see that her spirits are still high. He has not made her unhappy.

"I would have difficulty with that proposition as well," he replies.

Her smile broadens. "Good. I'm glad I'm not alone in that."

"For the most part, enhancing my telepathic and emotional control is possible by practicing a series of traditional mental exercises before and during meditation. I will make them a part of my routine in the coming weeks, as well as scheduling extra time each day for meditation."

"And in the meantime," she asks, "do we have to try to keep our hands off of each other? Because that won't be very easy."

In spite of his shame over what occurred tonight, the thought of refraining from further physical intimacies with Nyota is extremely displeasing. "No, it will not. Though perhaps it may be for the best."

"I don't think I agree." She shakes her head, her eyes glinting. "May I make an alternate proposal?"

"Certainly."

She leans toward him. "Humans generally learn to control their physical and emotional impulses during sexual encounters through practice. Most of us start fooling around when we're adolescents, and by the time we're ready for more serious adult relationships we already have a pretty good understanding of how our sexual responses work and how our partners' sexual responses are likely to work. But you never had those experiences growing up. So maybe, instead of keeping our hands to ourselves, what you really need is more fooling around."

Both of his eyebrows shoot up. "Please clarify what you mean by _fooling around_."

She laughs. "I don't think I've ever had to define it before. Well . . . I guess it means making out--do you know what _that_ means?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Good. So, yeah. Fooling around is making out that usually leads to other things like . . . manual stimulation, or even oral stimulation, but it stops short of actual . . . coitus." Still grinning, she now looks down at her hands in her lap, and Spock suspects she is slightly embarrassed to have to explain such simple concepts to him. He makes a mental note to try to remember all the sexual terminology his friends used during their academy days and to look them up in private.

"Fascinating," he says. "My knowledge of the biological aspects of sexual intercourse is sufficient to understand how such fooling around could indeed help increase my sexual stamina, while at the same time functioning as an alternative means of providing you with fuller sexual satisfaction. However, I remain concerned that if we engage in such acts in the next few days I will not yet have regained sufficient telepathic and emotional control to prevent further mishaps."

Nyota picks up her mug of tea and slides closer to him. "I don't agree." She takes a sip of tea, staring at him over the rim of her mug with an expression that clearly dares him to challenge her.

He is perfectly willing to engage her in debate. "On what points do you disagree?"

"On your perceived inability to prevent--as you call them--_mishaps._" She lowers her mug back to the table. "I think that after tonight you'll be so uptight about hurting me again that not only will there be no more mishaps, but you'll probably impair your own potential enjoyment of any fooling around. Personally, if the price of your enjoyment is a few bruises or a scrape or two, for me it's totally worth it." She leans toward him, an intense look in her eyes. "I want to you to enjoy this every bit as much as I do, Spock."

He feels a new surge of warmth in his face and his groin. It continues to amaze him how easily she arouses him.

"Although I am grateful for your concern over my enjoyment, my primary concern at this time is your well-being. I would far rather refrain from touching you for the next several weeks than risk harming you again."

Her eyes narrow. She is not pleased. "Would you be willing to consider a compromise?"

"Possibly. What compromise do you suggest?"

"Making out, but no fooling around. Not until you feel ready." The corners of her mouth quirk up and she raises an eyebrow. "You can handle a little making out, can't you?"

His own lips curl up involuntarily. "I believe I am capable of controlling myself while making out."

"I thought so." She scoots closer to him and picks up her tea again.

After taking several sips, she lowers her mug to her lap. "While we're taking about our relationship, I guess there's probably a few other points we ought to discuss."

"Yes. It is important that we establish protocols for maintaining our discretion and privacy."

She nods, her face suddenly serious. "Absolutely, but first, I have a question. I missed my monthly contraceptive hypo while I was on my trip. Do I need to be worried?"

On this point he can easily reassure her. "No. I am incapable of natural reproduction with Human women."

Her eyes widen. "Oh. Really? So in order to reproduce with a Human you would need--?"

"The assistance of expert geneticists."

"Well." She looks slightly taken aback.

"Does this disappoint you?"

She shakes her head quickly. "No. Not at all. I'm just curious. Was that a product of your natural development, or was it a choice your parents made?"

"It was my father's choice. He intended for me to live a fully Vulcan life."

"Hmm." She looks down and tightens her grip on the mug in her lap. "You'll be giving up a lot if you stay with me."

He reaches out to touch her cheek, and she looks back up to meet his gaze. "No. By choosing you, Nyota, I gain far more than I sacrifice."

Her face curves into a bright grin. "I think that's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me."

"It was not intended to be beautiful. It is merely the truth."

She carefully sets her mug back on the table, and leans forward to kiss him.

He is so lost in the sensation of her embrace that it takes him several seconds to remember her lip.

He pulls back. "We are agitating your wound--"

"I don't care." She pulls him back in for more. This time, he willingly surrenders.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's notes: **This story is finally coming to an end. This last chapter is about 75% fluff and sex. I felt like I owed that to both my characters and my readers after 10 chapters of angst. Thank you so much for reading the whole thing and sticking with me through the twists, turns, ups and downs. I really appreciate all your support and encouragement. And thanks as ever to my great beta reader, MrsTater.

Chapter 11

_In mid-July, not long after Spock started dating Janice Turner, he joined Commodore Ripley for lunch at a campus diner to discuss his teaching plans for the coming year._

_After he expressed his need to limit the number of phonology classes he teaches in order to accommodate his new duties preparing the _Enterprise_ for her maiden voyage, Commodore Ripley shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever forgive Chris Pike for stealing you away from us."_

_"That is unfortunate, for it means you will never forgive me either, as it was as much my choice as it was Captain Pike's."_

_Ripley sighed. "I know. And it was a good choice. Young officers like you ought to be out finding adventure among the stars--not trapped here in San Francisco babysitting cadets."_

_"My work here at the academy has been rewarding."_

_"But it's not the same as serving on starship, is it?"_

_He shakes his head. "It is not."_

_She stabbed a piece of her steak with her fork. "Hell, if I was twenty years younger I'd have applied to serve on the _Enterprise _myself. I envy you."_

_The conversation soon turned to other matters of business. When the Commodore told Spock that the xenolinguistics department was being asked to provide cadet volunteers to assist at the Federation Interplanetary Defense Summit at the end of October, he mentioned that his parents would be coming to Earth to attend the summit._

_"Really? Maybe I'll take them out to lunch while they're here. Did I ever tell you I know your parents?"_

_"No. You never have."_

_"Huh." She took another bite of her steak and shook her head as she swallowed. "I can't believe that never came up in the four years I've worked with you. Actually--" She pointed her fork at him. "There's a story about your parents that I've wanted to tell you ever since I found out you were dating Commander Turner. It suddenly seems relevant."_

_He inclined his head toward her. "Please, enlighten me."_

_She smiled. "For a while I was a junior adjunct to the official Starfleet liaison to the Vulcan Ambassador at the time your father was serving here in San Francisco. That's how I met your father, though I spent a lot more time with his staff than I spent with him. But we moved in the same circles. This was before his marriage."_

_She leaned back in her chair. "At that time, everyone knew that Amanda Grayson was one of his close friends and confidantes. She was his only close friend that he hadn't met through his official duties, which made her unique, but no one thought too much of it. He didn't seem to treat her any differently than any of his other friends. At least, not in public."_

_Spock was fascinated. His only source of information regarding his mother's life prior to her marriage had been his uncle and cousins, but they never knew Sarek until after the engagement. This was his first insight into his parents' relationship before their marriage._

_"Well," continued Ripley, "one evening I was at a fancy black tie function at a museum somewhere and your parents were there, too. At one point I had to duck into a back corridor to answer a call from a colleague who was working late. Once my call was done I rounded a corner to head back to the party and I saw your parents down the corridor. There was something very private about their posture, so I quietly ducked back around the corner but I just couldn't control my curiosity, so I peeked."_

_She grinned broadly. "I couldn't see what they were saying, but they stood closer to each other than mere friends would have. What struck me the most was the way Sarek looked at her. To this day the only word I can think of to describe his expression is _tender. _He was looking at her tenderly. And as they turned to head back out to the party he touched her very lightly on the back of her hand, and held his fingers there as they walked. It was an extremely intimate gesture. I think I was the only person, either Human or Vulcan, who wasn't surprised when they announced their engagement three weeks later."_

_"Fascinating," replied Spock, wondering what his parents would have been like more than thirty years ago._

_"I thought you would like that. I felt like I'd witnessed a little piece of history--the beginning of the first Human-Vulcan marriage." She tapped her finger on the tabletop. "I suspect that it's much easier to watch history than to _be _history. Wouldn't you say, Commander, being a piece of history yourself?"_

_Spock nodded. "You are correct, Commodore. It is not always easy being a person of historical interest--even if that interest is only a result of the circumstances of my birth."_

_"Well, that much will change once you're out on the _Enterprise. _You'll all make history then."_

_The corners of his mouth twitched up. "Captain Pike will be very pleased to hear your prognosis." _

_The Commodore laughed heartily. _

_Soon their meal ended, but later that day, as he prepared for meditation, Spock reflected back on the conversation. The Commodore had been correct; it had never been easy growing up as a piece of history. The very first child of two worlds._

_Perhaps that was why, in the end, he had chosen neither of those worlds. Instead, he chose the stars._

***

Late in the evening, several days after Nyota's return to Earth, Spock sits with her on the sofa in his office in the Campus Computing Services building. Her legs lie leisurely across his lap, and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulders while her other hand rests on his chest. One of his arms is tucked behind her and the other drapes across her hip.

They have determined that his computing services office is the best place to spend private time together. Though it is less than ideally comfortable, it is by far the most discreet of the available options. They do not wish Nyota to be seen coming and going from his faculty apartment at odd hours, Nyota's dorm is out of the question, and the labs and offices available to them in the xenolinguistics building are far too public. The computing services building, however, is largely abandoned by 1900 hours and is locked up for the night at 2200 hours. Spock is one of the staff members who knows the access code and can enter the building whenever he likes.

Nyota plants a series of light kisses along his jaw line as he speaks.

"My mother is very eager to meet you."

She looks up at him. "You told your mother about us?"

"Certainly. I inform my mother of all significant events in my life."

"What about your father?"

Spock does not want to contemplate how his father will react to the news of his new relationship. "No. My father and I are not close, and my mother does not divulge the details of my personal life to him."

Nyota toys with the hair at the back of his neck. "I get the impression that he won't approve of our relationship."

"No. He will not. However, my father's approval is of no concern to me." His father's approval stopped being of concern long ago, after their very vocal disagreement over his decision to join Starfleet.

"But your mother does approve?"

The corners of Spock's mouth tick up, and he runs his hand up and down her thigh. "Very much so. I first told her of our friendship near the beginning of the year, and when I later informed her of my plan to begin dating Human women she strongly urged me to try dating you."

"Oh." Nyota grins. "I like her already. She sounds like a very intelligent woman."

"She most certainly is." He leans forward to kiss Nyota. Though he has only been practicing his extra mental exercises and meditation for a few days, he is already more adept at closing off the close emotional contact with Nyota that had so overwhelmed him. He now finds making out to be an extremely pleasant way to spend their time together, and has begun to consider moving forward to the stage Nyota called _fooling around._

As he shifts to trail kisses down her neck, Nyota speaks again. "As much fun as this is, I thought our original plan was for you to help me choose some pieces for the Chorale to sing this year."

"I do not see why we cannot continue both activities concurrently, as listening to music requires only our ears." He kisses his way along her collar bone.

"Mmm. Multitasking. That is very logical."

"Indeed."

She reaches for the PADD sitting on the side table next to the sofa. Spock pulls back from her long enough for her to pull up her list of songs and set them to play.

"Okay," she says as the PADD begins to play the first song. "The chorale president gave me thirty-six options and they're all on this PADD. She wants me to narrow it down to twelve." She sets the PADD back down on the table.

"I am certain we can successfully condense your list before the end of the night."

"Yeah. That's what I was hoping."

He pulls her back into a kiss, stroking her ear gently with his fingers as the music plays.

***

The day before the new semester begins, Spock is summoned to a small ceremony with a select group of officers from the xenolinguistics and computer programming departments. Admiral Hanney, president of Starfleet Academy, leads the ceremony. Cadets Uhura and Falan-Raz are being honored for their role in the rescue of the _Kenai._

After the Admiral presents them both cadets with medals, the ceremony takes a turn which catches Spock by surprise.

"A small number of cadets every year are awarded the distinction of promotion to the rank of Ensign prior to their graduation from this institution," says Admiral Hanney. "I cannot think of any two more deserving cadets than those who stand before me now." He hands each of them small cases holding their new rank insignias. "Congratulations, Ensigns."

The assembled officers applaud politely. Spock watches as Nyota strives to restrain her ebullient smile. He agrees with the Admiral--he knows of no other cadet more deserving of this honor.

After the ceremony Commodore Ripley draws Spock aside. "Commander, I need to speak to you in my office later today."

Spock nods, and they arrange a time.

When he arrives at the Commodore's office she invites him to sit down before she states the purpose of their meeting. "I think we need to have a little talk about the Starfleet Academy Code of Conduct section eight, subsection four. I assume you're familiar with the contents of this particular provision?"

Spock's throat feels suddenly tight as he nods. "I am." It is the provision forbidding romantic fraternization between teachers and students.

The Commodore nods slowly. "I've been putting off this conversation for several days. I hate dressing down my subordinates. Especially ones as talented as you, Commander. However, I think today's events have given both of us a very fortunate escape from a formal disciplinary council."

Spock raises his eyebrow, his heart racing.

Ripley smiles. "With that memory of yours, surely you recall the exact wording of section eight, subsection four?"

Spock thinks back on the regulation, reviewing it in his mind. "Yes. I believe the exact wording in that subsection refers to _instructors _and _cadets._"

"Precisely. Uhura's promotion today was a very fortunate break for both of you. Now that she's an Ensign instead of a cadet the two of you seem to be in a very comfortable little gray area." Ripley leans toward him across her desk. "Here's the deal, Commander. I don't know how long you and Ensign Uhura have been doing whatever it is you're doing with each other. Frankly, I don't want to know--though I suspect it must have started not long after you broke up with Commander Turner."

Spock remains silent, allowing the Commodore to say her piece.

She sighs. "I wasn't sure anything was happening until I found out you'd rushed up to see her at Spacedock Hospital hours after she came out of surgery. And I was doubly certain after I found out you'd traded TAs with Varik. The fact that you worked to get her out of your chain of command shows at least a little common sense. But as your commanding officer, I feel compelled to tell you that your judgment in pursuing a relationship with a student has been very poor. I'm disappointed in your lack of self-control."

Her words sting. He looks away from her gaze.

"So," she continues, "here's my final official word on the matter. It is my duty to advise you to discontinue your relationship until after Ensign Uhura's graduation. However, I cannot order you take my advice. But I will have you know that public knowledge of your relationship would be bad for the morale of the staff, and could be disastrous for discipline among the cadets. If you continue in your relationship, I expect the two of you to be very, _very_ discreet. If I hear any more rumors of Ensign Uhura paying visits to your apartment in the middle of the night, or any more gossip about you two at all, or see any signs of professional favoritism toward her, both of you will be formally reprimanded. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Spock nods, a mixture of relief and distress sitting uncomfortably in his mind.

Ripley's expression softens. "Okay. Now that I'm done speaking as your commanding officer, let me talk to you as a friend. Your timing is pretty shitty, but I'm still happy for you."

Spock's eyes widen in surprise.

"I know you well enough to know that you never would have even considered a relationship with a student unless she meant the world to you," says Ripley. "It's not easy to find someone like that. I've been trying for more than forty years now with no luck. Don't take it for granted."

"Thank you, Commodore. I have no intention of taking my relationship with Ensign Uhura for granted."

"Good." She smiles, and shakes her head. "Like father, like son. I think both of you had relationships sneak up on you when you least expected them."

Spock never would have thought to make such a comparison, but he sees the logic behind it. "I suppose you are correct, Commodore."

She nods. "Okay. I'm done making you uncomfortable for today. You can go congratulate Ensign Uhura on her promotion, now."

Spock rises to his feet, thanking the Commodore again.

"The best way you can thank me is by being discreet. Please."

"We had no intention of behaving otherwise."

***

During his first several forays into fooling around with Nyota, Spock is pleased with his ability to maintain control over his emotions and telepathic abilities. Tonight, however, pushes him to his limits.

He sits on his office sofa, his head resting back on the top of the sofa-back. He feels dizzy and light-headed, his emotions threatening to erupt at any moment.

Nyota rises from where she knelt on the floor in front of him, and snuggles next to him on the sofa. "So, I take it from your expression you liked that?"

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "It was . . . one of the most singularly pleasurable experiences of my life."

She leans her head against his shoulder and lays her hand on his chest. "You're welcome."

His head continues to spin. He covers her hand with his own, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "I cannot help but wonder if it was selfish of me to accept so much pleasure from you without offering to give you pleasure in kind."

"Don't worry about it," she says. "This was a big step for you. I don't expect you to push yourself into another big step tonight just to make things fair. Besides, I may not have experienced the same kind of pleasure that you did, but trust me, it was still a very satisfying experience."

"Was it? Please explain."

"Well," she begins running her fingers slowly back and forth across his chest, "it felt really good to see how much you trust me. To know that I'm probably the only person in the galaxy you trust enough to surrender yourself to me so completely. It felt pretty amazing."

He raises his head enough to look down into her eyes. "You are correct. You _are _the only person I trust like this."

"I feel the same way, you know." Her hand brushes softly against his cheek. "I trust you completely."

As he looks into her eyes, Spock knows with certainty that he has found exactly what he was looking for. There is no more doubt or confusion. This is the answer.

Early the next morning he sits at the communications console in his apartment and initiates a subspace call to Vulcan.

Moments later T'Pring's face appears on his screen. "Greetings, Spock."

"Greetings, T'Pring."

Her face is as stoic as ever. "Given the unexpected nature of your call I assume that you have contacted me to report on the progress of your experiment with Human relationships."

He nods once. "You are correct, T'Pring. The experiment has been extremely illuminating, and I have already reached a conclusion."

"Please share your conclusion with me."

He does not hesitate. "I have determined that taking a Human mate is indeed more suitable for my character than continuing my bond with you."

If T'Pring were Human, he would expect to see anger, sorrow, or, at the very least, frustration. But she is not Human. She merely nods. "I accept your decision. It was not unexpected. I will contact the Elders to arrange for the termination of our bond immediately. Do you have a scheduling preference?"

The corners of Spock's mouth twitch up. Just months ago he felt a wholly illogical anxiety over having this conversation. But now it is merely another piece of business to attend to. It seems--ironic. "I would prefer not to interrupt my teaching schedule with a trip to Vulcan. However there are several breaks in my schedule over the next four months which may accommodate a trip to Vulcan for our termination ceremony. I will send you a copy of my schedule. Do you require any assistance in making the arrangements?"

"No. It is logical that I make all the arrangements, as I am able to more easily contact the Elders."

"Very well."

She nods. "I find your decision most agreeable."

He raises an eyebrow. "May I know why?"

"A colleague who is also my friend has expressed great interest in becoming my choice-mate. I was not at liberty to entertain his proposal, but now I intend to explore that possibility at length, as a preliminary analysis indicates that we are well suited for each other."

Spock thinks that he sees the faintest hint of a smile hovering on her lips.

"I am pleased that you have such an agreeable opportunity. Contact me as soon as the arrangements for our termination ceremony are complete."

"I will." She nods. "I hope that you find contentment in your choice."

"Thank you, T'Pring. Live long and prosper."

"Live long and prosper."

***

Two days later, after a late-night game of chess in his office, Spock asks Nyota for permission to pleasure her as she so generously pleasured him three days earlier. Her eyes go wide with surprise, but she is not unwilling.

He discovers, just as she said, that there is a great deal of personal satisfaction to be derived from giving one's partner such pleasure. He savors the way she trembles and tenses beneath his touch, and derives much enjoyment from her gasps and moans. It is thrilling to know that he has so much power to affect her with the slightest of touches.

He succeeds in bringing her to climax several times, and each time he opens his mind to her feelings a little more until he shares completely in her final climax, shuddering with the power of it. He knows that they are both spent.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he moves up onto the sofa beside her and she shifts to lean against him, still panting.

"Wow," she says. "Oh, wow. That was really amazing."

"It is agreeable that you were able to derive so much pleasure from the experience. I watched several instructional videos in preparation to be certain of using proper techniques."

She breaks down laughing. His mouth curves more than he would normally allow as she shakes against him.

"Oh, God," she gasps, trying to stifle her laughter. "Those must have been really good videos."

"I found them both informative and stimulating."

Her laughter increases. "I bet you did."

When he finally stifles her laughter with a kiss, she makes no objection.

***

On the third Thursday of the semester they meet several miles from campus at a small café for dinner. As they finish their meal, Spock says, "I have a surprise for you."

Nyota smiles. "Really? I didn't think you were much for surprises."

"I am trying something new."

"You've been doing a lot of that lately."

"Indeed."

She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. "So, what's your surprise tonight?"

"Let us go for a walk, and I will show you."

"This just keeps getting more and more interesting," she replies with raised eyebrows.

They leave the café and he walks close by her side, his hands clasped behind his back. He leads her into a nearby residential neighborhood, and into a small complex of townhomes surrounding a small central park.

"This is a pretty little community," Nyota remarks.

"I am pleased that you approve."

Her brows knit. "What?"

He halts in front of one of the corner townhomes. It has a small front garden filled with perennial flowers, and the front facing is composed of warm brown stone. "This is my surprise."

"The house? I don't understand."

"Though my office was adequate as a temporary meeting place, it is not sufficient as a long-term solution to our search for privacy. I have spent the last several weeks researching alternatives, and two days ago I signed a rental agreement for this property. It is mine until I depart on the _Enterprise._"

Her mouth hangs open. "You're moving here?"

The corners of his mouth twitch up. "I have already packed the majority of my belongings, and I have engaged a crew of movers for tomorrow morning. By the end of the day tomorrow I will be installed here."

Her incredulous expression morphs into a grin. "Can we go inside?"

He nods, and steps up to the door to type in the access code. The door is a traditional style made of wood, pulled or pushed open with a metal handle. Spock swings it open and leads Nyota inside.

The townhome is not large, but it is well-kept and attractive with a spacious kitchen and living area on the main floor, and two moderately sized bedrooms upstairs. A balcony looks out from the master bedroom over a walking-trail alongside a small creek. Nyota takes in all the details with growing delight.

"It's wonderful," she says, standing in the center of the still-bare master bedroom.

"It is more than suitable for my needs, and is within a short walk of a train station which will provide easy transport to and from campus. It is altogether ideal for our needs."

She grins and strides to where he stands near the doorway. "So you're saying I'm invited to come over once in awhile?"

He meets her gaze. "I am extending a standing invitation for you to join me as often as you are able. In addition, there will be sufficient closet and drawer space for you to leave a selection of clothing and personal items here if you so desire."

"Spock, are you asking me to move in with you?"

"To do so would immediately alert Academy authorities to our relationship, which, though no longer forbidden will certainly be looked down upon. However--"

"However," she says, snaking her arms around his neck, "if I were to start working the occasional late-night and weekend shifts at the long range sensor lab and gave my friends and dorm-mates the impression that I was working those shifts far more often than I actually am, this could be my part-time home."

"Precisely."

"In that case, I think I _will_ bring over a few of my things."

"That would be most agreeable."

He gives her a very thorough kiss--an activity that has lost none of its appeal after frequent practice.

When he finally pulls back, he says, "I have one additional surprise."

She grins, still holding onto his neck. "Okay, but I don't know how you could possibly top the house."

"I have contacted T'Pring. She has agreed to end our bond and is making arrangements for the termination ceremony."

Nyota's face is suddenly somber, and she releases him, taking a step back. "Wow. I guess that does top the house."

Spock feels a faint stirring of nervousness. "Does this distress you?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I'm not distressed. I think . . ." She takes a deep breath. "I think it's finally sinking in how serious this really is. There were times in the last few weeks when I still felt like an over-ambitious kid playing games. But this is no game."

Her words have done nothing to diminish his nervousness. "Nyota, this has never been a game for me."

"It's not for me, either." She takes a small step toward him. "That came out wrong. It's not a game. But there were times when I did feel like I was still just a kid pretending to be grown up, and all this--the house, and you finalizing things with T'Pring--is reminding me that I really am an adult now, making adult decisions that are going to impact the rest of my life."

She smiles weakly and pushes her hair back from her face. "It's a little overwhelming, and even a little scary to think that what we're starting here is something that could last the rest of my life."

His brows knit. "Do you regret your choice to be with me?"

"Never." She slides her hands up his chest and rests them on either side of his neck. "Not for an instant. Just because I'm a little scared and overwhelmed doesn't mean I'm unhappy. I am happy. I want this."

She opens her mouth to speak again, but hesitates. He can feel her nervousness--and something else. Something powerful. Finally, she speaks. "I love you."

Now he has a name for the emotion he has felt so often when his mind brushes against hers. Love. This is what love feels like.

"I don't need you to say anything back," she says. "I don't expect it. I just wanted you to know."

He raises his hand to rest lightly on the side of her face. "Taluhk nash-veh k'dular." _I cherish thee._ It is a phrase normally only spoken between bondmates. He knows she will understand.

She raises her trembling hand to his face and repeats the phrase. "Taluhk nash-veh k'dular."

For a moment their minds meet.

Spock feels the power of emotions swirl around him. He is swept up in a wave of images, scents, sounds, and feelings. It is her memories of him. He now sees himself as she sees him, and it is utterly overwhelming.

His hand drops, as does hers, and they both take a step apart, as if they need a cushion of distance between them while they process what has just happened.

Her voice shakes as she speaks. "Is that really how you see me? Is that really what I mean to you?"

It seems that her experience was a mirror of his own. "Yes," he replies. He is glad. At last, they both understand.

Her eyes glisten, and two tears spill out and slide down her cheeks. "Thank you."

He nods. No more words are needed. Not tonight.

***

Nyota works her first late-night shift at the long range sensor lab the next day, but Saturday afternoon she joins Spock at the new townhome. She brings only a small valise of clothes and toiletries, but he is certain more will follow as the year progresses.

Though the movers placed all of his furniture in the proper rooms yesterday, there are many boxes of smaller affects that have yet to be unpacked. Nyota assists him.

They spend many hours finding homes for all of his belongings, talking as they work. Nyota takes great pleasure in asking about the origin and significance of his possessions--particularly art objects and books. It is pleasant to tell her the small anecdotes of his life that led to the acquisition of his many possessions. It seems almost like a way of sharing his possessions with her and making her more comfortable in the place he wants her to think of as home.

There is room for both of them to work in the large kitchen, so they prepare dinner together. She shares with him a recipe that her mother often prepared when she was a child that Nyota has now adapted for a vegetarian diet. Spock finds it amusing that though he is a competent cook Nyota insists on giving him exacting instructions during every stage of preparation. He wonders if her mother is similarly controlling in the kitchen.

The meal is delicious, and when they are finished Spock cleans up while Nyota begins some of her homework. He finishes the cleaning before she completes her assignments, so he fills the remaining time reading status reports from the outfitting of the _Enterprise_, and has just begun to write a quiz for his phonology class when she announces that she is done.

He has no objections to setting aside his work for the remainder of the night.

They take a stroll around the new neighborhood and discover a family of ducks living by the creek. Nyota declares that this is exactly the sort of neighborhood she would have chosen if he'd put her in charge of finding a house. He is pleased.

When they return to the house they make their way up to the master bedroom.

He kisses her, and then says, "I am ready."

She smiles up at him. "I know."

Though he has seen her in various states of undress over the past few weeks, tonight he sees her fully nude for the first time. She is even more exquisite than he had imagined.

They take their time, exploring each other's bodies thoroughly, savoring every little touch and each new sensation. Spock keeps his mind under tight control. He does not want this to end too quickly.

He brings her to climax once before finally sliding inside of her. As their bodies merge, he allows their minds to mingle as well. Their bodies move together in perfect understanding, each aware of every sensation the other experiences. They move slowly and deliberately, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible.

As they build toward climax, Spock's control of his mind slips and her thoughts and emotions crash around him with excruciating force. He cannot sustain himself any longer. They cry out together, their bodies finding sweet release simultaneously.

He collapses on top of her, gasping for breath. He quivers as he feels the aftershocks of pleasure surge through her again and again. Her emotions envelope him. It is too much.

She whimpers as he pulls back his mind and his body all at once, rolling off of her to lie on the other side of the bed.

He closes his eyes and takes several deep, shuddering breaths. As he gradually regains control of his mind, he wonders that if the act of physical union is already such an intense and powerful experience for them, how much more intense must it be for bonded couples? He begins to understand why his parents are always so reluctant to be separated for more than a few hours at a time.

He turns his head to look back at Nyota. She is staring at him, a concerned expression on her face.

"Was that too much for you?"

He ponders for a moment before answering. "No. I was merely unprepared for the emotional intensity we experienced. However, I believe I will become accustomed to it with experience."

She smiles, and grasps his hand. "Good. I was worried there for a moment."

He shakes his head. "You have nothing to fear. All is well."

***

Nyota is still sound asleep when Spock wakes. He slips out of bed and locates a pair of pajamas.

Her face wears an expression of perfect peace, and he savors the sight of it for several minutes before ducking out onto the balcony. The balcony faces east, and though it is still dark outside he can see a faint lightness around the horizon.

He sits on a small rug, folding his legs underneath him, and meditates until he feels the first light of morning warming his face.

It is time to rejoin Nyota for another new day.


End file.
